Familiar Stranger
by Philosopher Fictionist
Summary: FINISHED. Partly pre-COR, mostly post-COR. Strong R, lotsa swearing and adult content. Main character from the movie is not Riddick. Revealed in first chapter. R&R.
1. Chapter 1

New Harlem almost seemed like a prison colony, dark and dirty. The people inhabiting the planet were much the same way, though most weren't convicts, escaped or otherwise. It was just a rough place. Many of the buildings looked ready to fall over, though they really weren't. Dust storms swept through the city on regular intervals, the dirt kicked up from the surrounding wasteland. It was fine sand, gritty and grimy. Got in all the cracks and crevasses.

A shadow moved down one of the smaller side streets, dusk growing darker and darker, hiding the body's form as it paused at the corner, just looking out over the intersection. A gravelly chuckle broke the quiet atmosphere as a sign flickered on, neon lights buzzing and flashing before staying on and beckoning thirsty travelers and residents to visit Lucky Lady's. A body moved in the window of the door, the click of the lock indicating they were now open for business. The man in the shadows continued to watch as a steady stream of patrons wandered in.

---

Katrina Marshal smiled as another regular customer nodded at her, and she filled a glass with ice, twirling a bottle of vodka around her hands before catching it in her fingers, turning it upside down to measure out roughly a shot of the alcohol. She slid the glass across the table, her hand going to the money he just laid down and his going to the drink. She winked and went back to prepping the bar, stocking shot glasses and tumblers.

"Watch the bar for me, James?" she asked quietly, her hired bartender nodding slightly as she reached for a large bucket and slipped to the back room. She whistled along with the jazz music floating quietly through the place as she shoveled ice into the bucket, lifting the heavy load with ease as she headed back to the bar. Two coins dropped into the jukebox as she poured the ice into the chest. A slow, mellow trumpet melody started playing, and the bucket lowered slowly to the ground, a small smile playing on her lips. A stool on the short end of the bar creaked as it became occupied, and, without looking at the man, she reached for the most expensive whiskey they carried, not bothering with her bottle tricks before pouring a double shot and sliding it over to him, her blue eyes finally settling on him.

He continued watching the door as he pulled a cigarette from his pocket, and she noted the tiny smile tugging at the corners of his lips as he placed it between his lips. With a flick of her thumb, she held the flame of her lighter to the end of his cigarette, and his eyes finally met hers. Her eyebrow rose slowly, her smile deepening as he nodded his thanks and exhaled a slow swirl of smoke, reaching for the glass she'd set down in front of him.

"It's on me, stranger," she said quietly. Another small nod, and she turned to another customer. She didn't speak to him the rest of the night, instead serving her regulars with the personality they'd come to know and love, and he just watched her. She only acknowledged him the few times she refilled his glass, an understanding between them that every drink he consumed in her bar was on the house. He took in her slim frame, deceptively thin, actually. Her leather pants hugged the soft curves of her body, the slopes of her toned stomach showing under the hem of the red tank stopping an inch above her navel, but camouflaged under the black long sleeve mesh shirt, the hem of it stopping just above the silver studded belt keeping her pants poised at the widest part of her hips. The sleeves of the mesh shirt fell to the middle knuckle of her thumb, a loop around her middle finger keeping them from riding up her arms. It was tight enough to show her arms were well built while still hiding the definition. Her boots added nothing to her height, her pants hiding most of the shoe, but he knew they were combat-style, the laces coming nearly to the toe to make her feet look smaller. Steel-toed, most likely. And like most of the clothes hanging neatly in her closet, they were black.

He downed another shot, deciding not to sip this one, and continued watching her on the sly through casual glances. A touch of a smile curved his lips as a silver ring on the index finger of her right hand glinted in the dim lights above the bar when she reached up to tuck a loose chunk of her shoulder-length brown hair behind her ear, most of it now falling out of the pony tail. It was carved with ancient Celtic symbols, he knew. She'd fallen in love with the markings she'd seen on a jewelry box on the street, and he'd found the ring off planet somewhere, he couldn't remember where exactly. He'd had it sent by space courier without return markings, knowing she would know it was from him. As her hair moved, the dragon on her shoulder emerged from its hiding place, its nose peeking out from under the collar of the mesh shirt. His fingers twitched around his glass as his mind wandered back to the times he'd traced the lines of all three tattoos marking her skin.

Like most female bartenders, she flirted insatiably with every regular customer, and more so with the new patrons, with the exception of him of course. Her blue eyes would twinkle, a tiny smirk lighting her face. He knew it was all an act. Once the bar closed, she was reminiscent either of what he was paid to chase down or the women he worked with. In fact, when he was out on his deeper runs, he'd avoid her kind in the whorehouses just because he'd think of her and not be able to go through with it. He'd consciously choose the softer types, more curves and less muscle. Though he'd revel in knowing the woman under him, though she was paid to be there, was incapable of defending herself without a weapon, incapable of taking care of herself in the cruel worlds he frequented, was more feminine and proper than the woman milling around behind the bar just a few feet from him, he'd miss Kat intensely. The teams he would assemble when the call came in would have no idea he was spoken for, neither from his words nor his conduct, but he was. It wasn't a committed relationship, not a "normal" one even. Their bond was simply understood. When she was around, he was hers and she his, even if no one else knew it.

Patrons started clearing out, the hours passing quickly to him as he watched her and remembered. Dusk had turned into darkness, streetlamps flickering on and off as the electricity connections wavered and subways passed below the streets. He continued staring into his drink as she leaned against the side of the bar opposite him, crossing her arms across the scarred wood to lean closer to him. His eyes finally slid over to hers when she tapped the corner of a keycard on the bar.

"Why don't you go on up and clean up," she said quietly. He glanced around the bar quickly, noting the other bartender helping one drunken patron out to a waiting cab and the other two customers too involved in a card game to notice if he slipped through the back door. He nodded, his fingers lightly brushing hers as he took the keycard from her. Her eyes followed him as he stood, adjusting his belt as he walked away, leaving her to wipe down the bar and close up shop. James returned a few moments later, quirking an eyebrow at her.

"Stranger leave?" he asked slowly. A simple nod as she dropped empty beer bottles in the garbage can. He harrumphed, and she glanced at him quickly. "Didn't see him leave."

"Well, you had a hell of a time getting Marty to get into that damn cab out there," she quipped with a twisted smile. James snickered, shaking his head.

"Surprised he didn't just ralph all over me again." Katrina laughed, shrugging as she capped the pour spouts on the liquor bottles and wiped them down. "So who was he?"

"Who?"

"Mr. Silent Stranger over there," James answered, nodding to where her secret companion had just been sitting. She gave him a noncommittal shrug and ran tonic water through the soda dispenser to clean it.

"Just a thirsty traveler," she answered. "Comes in every few months or so."

"He's been here before?" James asked, surprise evident in his voice.

"I know all my customers, James," she chided. "I don't pay you enough to." James' hearty laughter boomed through the wooden walls of the bar, and she found herself giving him one of her rare genuine smiles.

"You pay me fine, Kat," he said, a touch of sentiment attached. She snickered, shaking her head. "I wouldn't step foot in the places that would pay me better."

"Yeah, they'd make you wear a fuckin' bow tie," she scoffed, rewarded with another amused snicker from her only other employee. "That shipment of new booze comin' in tomorrow?" she asked. He nodded, heaving a crate of dirtied glasses onto his shoulder. She watched him disappear into the back room.

"Your water's running again."

"Got the washer on a timer," she lied, keeping her eyes on the table she was wiping down. "Otherwise I'd never have clean clothes." James smiled, and they met in the middle of the room, each wiping down half of the tables. "You go on home, Jimmy," she said, nodding toward the door. "I'll finish here and lock up."

"Sure?" She gave him a small nod. "See you tomorrow."

"Be careful," she called, waiting until she heard the door click shut before walking to it and locking it behind him. The bar was eerily quiet, save the sound of her shower running upstairs, and she grunted just to break it as she carried another crate of dirty glasses into the back room, whistling to herself as she loaded the industrial dish washer. She headed back out into the bar, stretching her arms overhead and smiling as the water shut off, leaving the building completely quiet. With a weighty sigh, she opened up the cash register drawer, counting out three hundred universals in both paper and coin and placing it back in the drawer, closing it and locking it with the key on the chain around her neck before turning to the night's profits. Her fingers flew as she counted the coins first, dropping them into a manila envelope, and then the bills, wrapping a rubber band around twenty of each denomination. A light smile touched her lips at the total, and all the money went into the bag with the coins. Next came the credit slips, and the small smile widened. She closed the bag and flipped the lights off, kicking the back room door shut behind her before punching the button to start the dishwasher. After tucking the money into her safe, along with the register key, she started up the steps slowly, pulling the mesh shirt over her head.

---

He smiled as he stepped into the shower, inhaling deeply through his nose to absorb more of her scent. The entire place smelled like her, even the bar despite the thick cloud of smoke hovering in the air. His head tipped back, letting the warm water run over his face and taking with it the grime he'd picked up from the dust storm he'd walked through from the hangar. He just stood there under the spray for a while, watching the dirt and blood from recent dried injuries swirl down the drain at his feet, and once it started running clear, he reached for the soap, quickly wrapping up the rest of his shower. He toweled off, wrapping the fluffy green material around his waist. With a pleased rumble in his chest, he reached for the disposable razor still sitting on the back of the sink, quickly cleaning up the lines of his beard, forgotten in recent days. He ran his fingers through his damp curls and heaved a sigh as he crouched down to open the cupboard under the sink. Another uncharacteristically soft smile touched his lips as he ran his hands over the clothes he'd been wearing last time he'd cleaned up in her apartment, washed and folded neatly since then.

---

She knew the bathroom door would still be closed when she entered her small apartment above the bar, just like it always was. He'd shower, clean up his beard, and find the clothes he'd worn the previous time he'd stopped by. It was a routine. Their routine. She headed into her bedroom, dropping the mesh shirt into the hamper tucked in her closet, pulling off her boots and dropping them into place next to the hamper. The bathroom door clicked, and she looked up, watching him walk into the kitchen area of the main room. Her socked feet moved silently over the wood floors, and she leaned against the doorway, watching him rummage through her fridge. She watched him select some of her leftovers and stand in front of the open refrigerator, picking through a half-eaten jar of black olives as he hunted with his eyes. She moved to the opening between the breakfast bar and wall, leaning against the counter as she continued to watch him.

The play of the bulky muscles under the skin exposed by the black beater he'd pulled on fascinated her, and she watched them move as he lifted another olive to his lips, sucking the juice from his fingers. Her own fingers twitched at the memory of his tongue swirling around them, and a light blush crept into her cheeks. He tossed the now empty can into the trash with a metallic clink, and kicked the fridge door shut, stopping as he turned and finally noticed her presence. Her eyebrow rose as his eyes quickly flitted over her body, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

"You already stop off at Lupus 5 for another team?" she asked quietly.

"Not yet," he answered, leaning backwards against the main counter. "No new orders yet." She nodded slightly, tilting her head to the side. "How's business?"

"Booming as usual," she said with a smile. "Good thing too," she continued. "The cold season is a few months away. Slows down to a crawl then. Get the money now and scrape by in the winter." She shrugged, making it seem like no big deal. The bar always pulled through, and probably always would. He mirrored the slight tilt of her head, reaching out to tuck a chunk of hair behind her ear. His eyes settled on her face, taking in the delicate lines of her features. When she'd gone down to work this afternoon, her brown hair had been pulled back into a loose ponytail, only the two streaks of white allowed to hang in slow spirals around her face, but by the end of the night, most of her curls had fallen from the elastic meant to hold it back, and the mussed look was the one he looked forward to. Her eyes closed at his touch, and he threaded his fingers through her hair, nudging the rubber band from the smooth strands. He caught it in the hook of his little finger, watching her shake her curls free as he set the rubber band on the counter.

"Looks better down," he commented quietly, watching an internal smile send a twinkle into her eyes.

"Gets in my way when it's down," she returned, taking a step backwards from him before turning toward the living area of her main room. He followed, taking in the gentle sway of her hips as she walked away from him. "You have any idea when you get the next orders?" she asked, her voice suddenly flat. His small smile disappeared as she stopped behind the couch, letting her hands rest on the back of the frame.

"No idea." Goose bumps rose on her skin at the gravel in his voice. The hairs on her neck stood up on end as he came closer, leaving just a breath between them as he closed the distance. "Probably a couple days." She nodded, leaning back against his chest as his hand slid around her bare stomach. Her waist was small enough for his entire arm to wrap around her, his fingers curling around her other side. She moved her hands from the back of the couch to his hips and then slid them down to the outsides of his thighs, digging her fingers in gently as it finally sunk in that he was really back. He felt her moan vibrate against his chest, even though she didn't let it break free from her lips, and he lowered his head, rubbing the tip of his nose along the side of her neck.

"You smell better now," she commented quietly, smiling as he granted her one of his trademark harsh laughs. It was those laughs that let her know she amused him, and it sent a thrill of a shiver up her spine. She pressed back harder against him, digging her fingers into his legs more tightly. The moment passed, and the room fell silent again, the two occupants just reveling in the contact so long in absence from their individual and separate lives. "Are you okay?" she finally asked tentatively. He shrugged, his hand reversing its path around her middle as he pulled away from her, turning back to the kitchen. A brow twitched downwards as she turned to watch him. "I can run to the store tomorrow," she offered. "Pick up something more to your liking." He shrugged, and she sighed. "I'm gonna see it eventually, so you might as well show me." His foraging paused, and he turned slowly, eyeing her warily. "I'm not one of your pay days, remember?" she pressed with a bemused smirk. A hint of a smile, and he straightened, pulling the beater over his head with a stifled grunt. Her brows furrowed, and she closed the distance between them. The muscles in his stomach rippled as she ran her fingers over the gauze taped to his side, still wet from his shower. Her eyes flitted up to his face, but he was focused on her fingers, now tugging at the tape. As she pulled the makeshift bandage away, a fresh stream of blood started trickling slowly, and she mopped it up, holding the bloodied gauze to the wound as her other hand wound around his wrist, pulling him with her back into the bathroom.

"You just have to fucking baby me, don't you?" he asked, trying to hide his hurt pride behind exasperation, but she only plopped him on the toilet seat and made him hold the gauze in place. As she stood up, her lips pressed a gentle kiss to the tip of his nose, and he couldn't help but smile. She left him there to retrieve her meager first aid kit from her room, returning quickly to watch him dab at the gash tenderly.

"Pants off," she ordered. His eyebrow rose as he looked up at her, and she snickered. "Oh, don't start being modest now," she quipped. "You don't take them off now, you get to wear them bloody when you leave. I'll only wash one outfit of yours per visit." Something flashed through his eyes, and it was an emotion she didn't recognize, but she didn't press. Slowly, he stood, holding the gauze pad with one hand and going to work on his belt with the other. She sighed, batting his hand away and taking over undressing him, pushing his pants from his hips into a heap on the floor, leaving him now only in his shorts. She kicked his pants out into the hallway and moved the medical kit to the floor, sitting beside him.

She didn't want to watch his face, instead watching his fingers grip the sink counter as she stitched him up and rubbed an antiseptic solution over the wound. Only once did he let a pained hiss escape, and she let herself steal just that glance to his face before continuing to treat him the best she could. When she was satisfied with her work, she mopped up the blood that had escaped and taped a fresh gauze pad over the wound and stood, moving toward the door, but he caught her wrist to restrain her. Her eyes held a question in them, but he only nodded, a tight smile relaying his thanks. His hand released her, and she stooped to pick up his pants from the hallway floor, heading into the kitchen to retrieve his shirt. He was standing in the bathroom doorway when she passed by him, and he watched through the doorway as she draped his clean clothes over the foot of her bed. Even though she didn't hear him, she knew he'd left the bathroom doorway to lean against the doorframe to her room, but she ignored him to go ahead and turn down the sheets.

"If I'd known you were coming I would have gotten something for dinner," she said quietly. He shook his head, making a grunting noise in disagreement. "Just so you know, you'll have to use the back door tomorrow if you go anywhere. James was asking who you were." He nodded.

"Don't want anyone to know about me, huh?" There was a strangeness in his voice, and she couldn't help but look up at him sharply.

"You know it has to be like this," she said slowly. He sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he looked away. "There are plenty of people I see on a daily basis in my bar who would either never come back and drive my business under or kill me if they knew who you really are," she said, a slight tremor in her voice. "It's this way or nothing." He turned away, leaving her room, and she flopped onto the bed with a weighty sigh. After a moment, she scratched her head and stood, changing into her pajamas before heading back out to the living room. He'd flopped on her couch, and was flipping through the channels on her vid screen, the sound still turned down from when she'd left the apartment before going to work. His eyes remained fixed on the screen, even as she slid onto the couch between his knees, leaning her back against his chest. Not wanting to start a game of remote control Rambo with him, she laced her fingers between his, lifting his free arm over her shoulder. Though his hand remained limp in hers, she felt him move to sniff her hair, and smiled, turning her head to nuzzle her nose into the underside of his chin. "You shaved for me," she commented quietly, letting her lips lightly brush his skin as she spoke. The rumble in his chest served as her answer, and his fingers finally closed around hers, squeezing once. She pulled her hand from his grasp and slid onto her side, pulling the remote away from him and clicking the sound up to audible, and they lay there for a while, just pretending to pay attention. When the credits started rolling for the movie they'd ignored just to get used to contact with another person again, he took the remote from her, turning the vid screen off before dropping the remote to the floor with a muted thud and wrapped his arms around her tightly, pressing his cheek to her forehead.

"I'm too old for you," he commented quietly, smiling at the light chuckle his statement prompted. It was true, she realized. Here he was, in his early forties, and she'd been bedding him on and off for the past four years, ever since she was twenty-five. She knew she wasn't the only one he went to, but there was no one else for her. Safety, for her, relied on seclusion, and though she pretended to be everyone's girlfriend when she was playing bartender, James was the closest thing she had to a friend, and he was hired help. And even though the man she clung to so tightly right now knew her better than she did sometimes, she was safe because it wasn't serious. If the calls to duty ever ended for him, she'd have to leave him for good. Either that or piss him off to the point he wouldn't come back. She pushed the thought away and turned, leaning with one elbow to either side of his ribs and hovering over him.

"No," she said, letting a sly smirk slide into place, "I'm too young for you." He gave her another one of her favorite laughs, tilting his head back and baring his throat to her. She took the opportunity, and his laugh turned into a growl as she dipped her head, catching the flesh on the side of his neck gently between her teeth. It was one of the things she loved most about him – the vocalizations he made for her. She figured it must have been a while for him. With just one touch, she felt his body's reaction, and usually it took more than a gentle nip. Encouraged, she moved her nibbles to his ear, smiling as he sucked in a sharp breath and reflexively ground his hips upwards into her stomach. His eyes opened as she pulled away, finding her face hovering just millimeters from his own, that look in her eye already in place. He never asked if there were other men, didn't want to know for fear of what his reaction would be to finding out that look was given to someone other than him. He pushed the thought away, letting his eyes drops to her lips, but she shook her head, that devious smile returning. She dipped her head again to repeat the attention to the other side of his neck, this time trailing down to his chest.

He tried to bite it back, but he just couldn't confine the hiss as her tongue swirled around a nipple and then the other. It was one of his favorites of her tricks, simply because no other woman bothered with the details. As her teeth clamped down, he instantly wished he could pay her back, make her spine arch as his did now, but he was terrified that with the piercings claiming her nipples he'd get too enthusiastic and bite too hard or pull one out. She was one of, if not the only person he'd sworn to himself he'd never hurt. His protesting groan was marked with her light laugh as she sat back on her knees, running her hands down his arms to encircle his wrists and pull him up with her. Instantly, his lips gravitated toward hers, but she shook her head after turning her head away and receiving another questioning glance. After moving from the couch, she pulled him to his feet and guided him toward her bedroom door, falling in behind him, her fingers tracing the slopes of his shoulders and back. He stopped just inside the door, and she continued forward, her hands running down his arms as her lips followed the trails her fingers made. She ducked under his arm slowly, giving her kisses time to follow along his skin in a haphazard trail, slowly leading back up to his collarbone. His arms wound around her waist, one hand flattened on the small of her back and the other trailing light touches up and down her back, his fingers following her spine under her night shirt. She let out a contented sigh and pressed her cheek to his skin, letting her eyes fall closed as she slid her arms around to his back and mirrored the patterns he drew along her skin.

"Any new tats?" he asked quietly, a part of him disappointed when she shook her head against his chest, and another part of him glad her skin hadn't been harmed again. A quiet rumble thundered in his chest as her lips pressed to the side of his neck before she took a step away from him. She waited for his eyes to drop to her hands, now grasping the hem of her pajama shirt, before she pulled it off, letting her arms hang loosely at her sides. He took the step forward she took back, his hands sliding around her waist again and pulling her to his chest, lowering his head, but again, she evaded his lips. He let out a frustrated growl, and she only smiled wickedly as he let his head drop backwards.

"Patience," she whispered. Another aggravated groan escaped him, but his arms tightened around her waist, pulling her tighter against him. Her hands slowly skimmed along his skin, running up his arms to wind around his shoulders, and he lowered his head to the angle joining her neck and shoulder, his attentions unbroken as he lifted her off the ground against him. Her legs twined around his waist, evoking another of her beloved moans from him at the contact, and he slowly lowered her to the bed, his lips starting their own slow exploration of her skin as she buried her fingers in his curls. His fingers almost touched each other as they encircled her waist, but whether it was because his hands were so large or her waist so thin he didn't know and didn't care. His thumbs lightly stroked her skin as his lips moved along the valley between her breasts, and her hands guided him gently to the left. He took a moment to glance up at her, but she arched her back, rubbing her nipple in the rough hairs running in a thin line along his jaw, and he stared at her for a moment before obliging, gently drawing a lazy, wet circle around the nub with his tongue. He paused again to glance up at her, mirroring her pleased smile before closing his lips around her, letting his fear of hurting her go and even letting his teeth nip at her gently, rewarded with a surprised gasp and the arch of her back he'd always craved. His own moan mixed with hers as he moved to the other nipple, her hips grinding against his just as he'd done when he'd been on the receiving end.

He hooked his thumbs in the elastic band of her pajama pants, his lips moving a slow, torturous trail down her stomach as his hands slid her pants down her legs. Before he could lean on his hands to ease his lips' craving of more of her skin, she snapped her legs around his waist and flipped him over, attacking his neck with her teeth as her hands roved over his skin. As she moved down his chest, she shifted her legs between his, and he lifted his hips as she tugged on his shorts, letting her draw them down and off the end of the bed in a pile with her discarded clothing. He watched her look at him for a moment, her eyes hungrily taking in the deep tan of his skin, the light sprinkling of hair on his torso, the hills and valleys of muscle clenching in anticipation of fulfilling his desire – need – for her.

"Not bad for an old man," she quipped quietly, tilting her head to the side with an evil smile. In an instant, he sat up, wrapping his hands around her arms and wrenching her forward onto his chest. She chuckled, still refusing to let him kiss her by burying her face in his neck as she moved to straddle his hips. The heat she nestled against him as she let her weight press into him prompted him to press upwards, increasing the friction, both of them moaning at the sudden contact. As she planted kisses all over his face, with the exception of where he wanted them most, he settled his hands in the creases of her hips and wriggled under her to find a position allowing him to maneuver himself into her slowly, and when he did, her kisses stopped, her forehead pressed against his, eyes squeezed shut, lips parted in a silent cry. His hands slipped along her sides to press against her back before he rolled her over, their lips finally meeting in the process. He didn't bother to try to contain the groan building at the fervor in her kisses, her fingers twining in his curls to hold him against her. She ground her hips against his, encouraging his movement, but he was too busy reveling in the heat of her, the sensations of her lips against his, and the tiny mewling noises she made deep in her throat. Her spine arced more than it should have been able to as he finally started moving, slowly at first.

Her lips broke from his only to reattach to his shoulder, her hands leaving his hair to grip his arm with one and his back with the other, her fingers digging into his skin in rhythm with his hips. She bit him quickly, probably harder than he normally would have let someone, but one, this was her, and two, it only spurred him on, his pace increasing. A groan vibrated in his throat, and she pressed her forehead against his neck to feel it, her gasping breaths tickling the sweat-dampened skin on his chest. She wrapped her legs tightly around his hips, twining her toes together, and let her head fall back. His lips instantly found hers, quieting her moans as she started trembling under him. She wrenched her lips from his, pressing her cheek against his as her face scrunched, her breath halting.

"Breathe, darlin'," he whispered, his throaty voice in her ear sending her over the edge with a strangled cry. The ringing in her ears was all she heard, but she felt him follow, his movements more erratic and his fingers digging into her skin almost painfully. She kept her eyes closed, even as he stilled and settled against her, his head on the pillows next to hers and his nose barely grazing her cheek. When the quiet hum stilled, she smiled lazily, letting her head loll to the side, the sides of their noses touching. She felt the muscles in his stomach tighten before he moved, his lips meeting hers in a soft, gentle kiss, and she responded in the same way, letting another quiet moan go unrestrained. Their skin stuck together as he lifted away from her, pulling her against him as he settled on his side. She nuzzled her shoulder into his armpit as he pulled her closer to him, resting her head on his chest as she let an arm snake around his middle. "I think I need another shower," he drawled through a yawn, receiving a light chuckle from the woman pressed against his side.

"No," she answered, "you smell like me now." Her smile remained as she watched his stomach contract with another of her favorite laughs, and she ran her fingers over the tightened muscle. His hand covered hers, curling around her fingers. She let her eyes close, and felt his lips press against her forehead as she fell asleep.

---

He was alone when he woke, the sheets where she had been already cold, but the smell of bacon frying was too alluring to let go. With a stifled groan, he stretched, taking up the whole bed in the process. Three new pairs of his favorite kind of shorts lay already washed on the bedside table and he smiled, shaking his head with a quiet laugh. He pulled a pair on and shuffled out of the bedroom, scratching his backside. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled quickly before turning back to breakfast, and as he sat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, she sat a plate down in front of him.

"Store?" he asked gruffly. She nodded, already munching on a crispy strip of bacon. They ate in silence, Kat still standing at the stove. She cleared his plate when he was finished and set it in the sink. As she ran the water, he stood, walking around the breakfast bar to wrap his arms around her waist from behind, dropping a kiss on her shoulder before staggering into the bathroom. She heard the water turn on and smiled, heading into the bedroom to make the bed and tidy up. He emerged not five minutes later, a towel hanging off his hips.

"Mind if I use your computer?" he asked, the sleepy gruff gone from his voice. She nodded with a small smile, and he walked to her, pausing only long enough to give her a quick kiss before going to her desk. Her hands went to her hips, head hanging as he swore and glanced at her quickly. She heard him stand and walk toward her, but she turned her back to him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Kat…" he trailed off as she shook her head. His clothes rustled as he dressed quickly, and she turned to watch him, a saddened expression on her face. She blinked and looked away as he looked up at her, his brows furrowed. He stood, wrapping his arms around her from the side, a hand cupping her cheek as he pulled her head against his chest. "I'll be back as soon as it's done," he promised. She shook her head, pulling herself from his grasp as she turned, hiding the tears sliding down her cheeks. "Will you at least look at me?" he asked harshly, more out of frustration than anger. She finally turned slowly, and he sighed, reaching out to cup her face in his hands, brushing her tears away with his thumbs.

"I don't have a good feeling about this one," she said quietly, turning her head out of his hands. He took a breath, but couldn't think of anything to say, so he just scratched the line of beard below his lip with his thumb. "Don't go," she said quietly. His eyes closed at the defeat in her voice, so uncharacteristic of her. He'd expected her to cuss him out and hit him a few times before throwing him out of her apartment, even though they both knew he was always welcome back.

"Listen," he said finally. She turned back to him, eyebrow arched. "This is a big one. Never seen so many zeroes in my life." Her eyes narrowed. "I can't turn it down, darlin'." A heavy sigh, and she turned her back on him again. "It'll keep you open every winter for a decade."

"I don't give a shit!" she exploded. _Well, this is more like it_, he thought with a wince. "Who was it that said the more money, the better the chances of not coming back?" She whirled around, eyes angry now. "Oh yeah," she continued, "that's right. It was you." He took a breath, but she waved away his answer. "I've never asked you not to take one," she said. "But I'm asking you now." Another interrupted breath. "No, I'm telling you. Something doesn't feel right about this one. Don't take it." He reached out slowly, still unsure of whether she was ready to clock him yet or not, but she let him tuck a curl behind her ear.

"The team's meeting up on Lupus 5 in a week. I have to leave today to get there on time." She sighed, lowering her eyes from his. "Come with me. I'll find you transport home from there."

"I can't," she whispered, shaking her head. "James can't handle the bar by himself, and I don't trust anyone else. Just don't go."

"I have to, baby," he whispered back, pulling her against his chest, his lips pressing to her temple.

"You won't come back," she said, her words muffled by his shirt.

"I promise I will." She only shook her head, clinging to him tightly. He had to pause and think about it for a while, really think about it. She was right. She'd never asked him not to turn a call down, never even questioned his leaving. And worst of all, he'd never seen her this insistent he do or not do something, and that bothered him. But this was a lot of money, and he couldn't exactly afford to turn it down.

"You won't," she insisted, clutching him tighter. He sighed, pulling away from her just enough to look at her. His lips met hers for a brief moment, and he untangled himself from her grasp, going to the door. He reached for the handle, and paused.

"Please," she whispered, shaking her head. He turned, his boots thudding across the floor as he closed the gap between them, wrapping her in a crushing hug as his lips claimed hers possessively. Their fingers tangled in each others' hair and roved over the other's body frantically. The kiss slowed, and they pressed their foreheads together, both panting for breath. "Don't go," she whispered. He removed his hands from her, and she watched with a confused expression as he unfastened the chain around his neck, only to fasten it around hers. He lifted her chin with a finger, their lips joining in a tender kiss before he turned, walking through her door. The tears sprang free as she heard the back door slam, and after a few wet sobs, she got herself in check, cleaned up, and headed downstairs to open the bar.

---

It had been a year and a half since Kat last saw her elusive lover. Lucky Lady's had made it through two winters with larger profits than usual, though still a marginal success, and now that the weather was warming up again, she looked forward to the business to take her mind off her loneliness. As she poured a regular's usual drink, the doors swung open, a group of three mercs waltzing in. The room fell silent, except for the jukebox's quiet jazz, but their weapons stayed secured to their belts, and eventually the room calmed down. All three plopped down at the bar.

"What'll it be?" she asked, giving each of them their own charming smile, tailored to how she sized up their personalities. It was a gift of hers, and as always, all three men smiled back at her. She filled glasses for them and busied herself behind the counter, eavesdropping on their conversation.

"Yeah, we found him alright," one said.

"Pieces anyway," the second corrected with a snort. "Evidently someone pulled off a break and threw him in with the Hellhounds."

"Shit," the third guy breathed. "Bet they tore him apart without killing him first," he predicted. The other two shrugged.

"Well, at least we have a chance of getting the bounties he always got. Fucker got big ones," the first said quietly, eyes darting around the bar to see if anyone overheard. If they did, they ignored him.

"Who, Toombs?" the second quipped. Kat's stomach hit the floor without asking her brain's permission, and she dropped the glass she was putting on the rack. It shattered, spewing shards into the ice bin, and she swore.

"You okay Kat?" James asked, watching her pick up the visible chunks.

"Yeah," she lied, tossing what she'd found in the garbage. "Can you clean out the ice bin?" she asked, wrapping the towel she'd been holding around a rather deep laceration in her forearm. "I gotta go clean this up." He nodded, but she was eyeing the mercs, who were now looking at her peculiarly, as though they'd figured out she dropped the glass because of their conversation. She smiled apologetically. "Check your glasses boys," she said. "I don't know how far it went." As they all looked down into their glasses, she slipped into the back room and up the stairs to her apartment, the tears breaking free at the top of the steps. She stumbled up the last two stairs, crashing through her door and onto the floor, a quiet sob escaping her. Gritting her teeth to shut out both sources of pain, she picked herself up, retrieved her medical kit from her room, and retreated to the bathroom to stitch herself up. She wrapped gauze around her arm, ripping the tape between her teeth, and slid down the wall to the floor, letting the pain resurface.

Tugging at the chain around her neck, the clasp broke, and she hugged it to her chest. She kicked open the cupboard under the sink and pulled Toombs' shirt from the shelf, burying her face in it. Despite her alreading having washed it, it still held a faint trace of his smell, even after being soaked with her tears. She heard footsteps nearing, and James appeared in the doorway.

"You okay?" She nodded.

"Yeah, fine. Go back to the bar," she sniffled. He crouched next to her.

"Taylor's watching it for me. Everyone saw you bleeding, so no one's ordering until either you get back or I tell them you're okay."

"Go back, and tell them I'm fine. Just a fucking scratch," she insisted, meeting his eyes. His brows furled at the sight of her tears. "I'm just stressed out, okay? Just give me a minute to collect myself and I'll be back." He nodded, grudgingly leaving her in the floor. It was the first time she'd ever regretted not telling someone how she felt about them. The first time she felt strongly enough about someone to have that guilt. As quickly as the pain hit her, it was gone. She stood, wobbling only slightly, and went to the sink, washing her face quickly in cold water. After patting her face dry, she descended the steps, emerging back into the bar amidst whoops and cheers. Drinks sloshed, and conversations picked up, and her sorrow was abandoned. Until the doors closed and she was alone again, anyway.


	2. Chapter 2

Lucky Lady's. It'd been open for eight years now, and it still made it through every winter. Barely, but it made it. And Katrina Marshal needed a vacation. Her hired bartender, James, walked through the back door and stopped, his eyes narrowing. A slow, melancholy trumpet melody was playing softly in the bar. He heaved a sigh. Last time she'd done this and he'd caught her, she'd covered well. He still didn't know what was going on with her.

"You okay?" he asked softly, occupying the doorway between the back room and the main bar area. She glanced up quickly, sniffing, and then lowered her head again. Her knuckles were white, her hands clutching a glass of whiskey so tightly the tendons protruded under her skin. She sighed heavily and shook her head. James closed his eyes for a moment before sliding into the booth bench across from her. "Wanna tell me what's going on?"

"I can't, James," she whispered with a quivery voice, shaking her head. His eyebrow rose, and he leaned back in his seat.

"You can't." Her eyes met his briefly, and his brows furrowed at the pain so openly expressed in her features. Red streaks stained her face, left over from the tears she'd shed before running out of them. Another sniffle, and she lifted the glass to her lips, draining it. Her eyes were red and puffy, cheeks blotchy.

"Fine," she relented, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You remember that stranger that came in here a couple years ago?" His eyebrow rose.

"Vaguely."

"He wasn't a fucking stranger," she said quietly, her lip trembling. "I've been seeing him off and on for the past six years." A bitter snicker. "Well, until two years ago anyway," she added.

"What do you mean?"

"Those three mercs that came in?" He nodded slowly. She paused, eyeing him as she licked her lips. "You tell anyone and I'll personally kill you." Another slow nod.

"I promise."

"They were talking about a guy they found chewed to pieces by Hellhounds." A concerned expression slid over James' school. Her nostrils flared as she fought back another sob. "It was him," she finally whispered.

"Shit, Kat," James sighed, leaning his elbows on the table. "I'm sorry." She gave him a weak smile, then a small nod. "So six months ago you find this out and didn't bother to tell me." No response. "You've been brooding this whole time, got me all worked up and worried to shit about you, and still refuse to tell me this."

"If people knew, James…" she trailed off. His brow rose slowly.

"Knew what?"

"He was a merc," she whispered. James drew a sharp breath, leaning back. "If anyone found out I was fucking a merc on a semi-regular basis, the bar would be finished." Her eyes finally met his again. "And so would I."

"I know, Kat. No one will," he promised. "But you gotta start acting like yourself again or the bar's gonna go under." Her eyebrows shot up, and he sighed. "You haven't been the same," he explained gently, reaching out to rub a thumb over the long scar marking her arm, where she'd dropped a glass and cut herself. "It's noticeable, and it's affecting business."

"I know," she said quietly, nodding slightly. "Guess I just needed to get it off my chest. I feel a little better." He watched her play with the chain around her neck for a while, something she'd taken to recently.

"Do you?" Another small nod. She stood, gathering her glass and walking to the back of the bar.

"I'll be fine, James," she said, her voice returning to normal. "Could you grab a couple crates of tumblers from the washer?" she asked, pulling the caps off the spouts on the liquor bottles. He stood, walking to the back room, and returned a moment later with two crates, stacked. "Gonna be a busy night," she commented quietly, snatching up the ice bucket. "Friday."

"Let's hope so," James shot back. "Get your mind off your secret lover."

"Shut the fuck up," she said with a sad smile, disappearing into the back room. He heard the ice crunching as she filled the bucket up.

"That his chain around your neck?"

"Yep," she said stiffly. "You keep bringing him up and I won't be able to forget and have a regular night." He chuckled a little.

"Just hope no one plays 159." Her eyes shot over to him, but he was busy unloading the glass crates. That was the jukebox number of the song Toombs played to let her know he was there.

"How'd you know about that?" she asked.

"Well, first, you were playing it every time you were over there drinking on the job." A fleeting smile. "And I noticed you reaching for the top whiskey last time someone played it. Turns out it was the same night I noticed Mr. Silent Stranger sitting right over there." He nodded his head toward the short end of the bar, and she turned, her mind calling up the image of the last time he'd occupied that bar stool. She heaved a weighty sigh.

"Yeah, let's hope no one does."

---

It had been a week since Kat had confided in James about the demise of her lover, and talking about it really had helped a little. Still, lying awake at night, cold in her empty bed, just dredged the memories back up. She'd wake in the morning reaching for him, only to grasp the sheets and nothing more. Even watching a movie on the vid screen was lonelier than she was used to being in his absence. Just knowing he was dead made the time without him harder, even though she'd gone months at a time without seeing or hearing from him before.

She stared at her reflection in the mirror, noticing the white chunks in her hair had gotten just a little thicker. Premature whitening ran in her family and had sprouted from her head when she was just thirteen. She could have dyed it, but didn't bother, learning over time to like it. With a heavy sigh, she ran a comb through her wet hair, pulling it into a loose knot on the back of her head. Adjusting the towel she'd wrapped around her, she walked to the bedroom, pulling on a pair of loose fitting, military green cargos and a black tank top. Her combat boots followed, and her fingers went to the chain around her neck, clinging to her still damp skin. She let her eyes close for a moment, his face appearing in her mind, blue eyes shining brightly. The moment passed, and her boots thudded down the stairs to the bar.

---

They couldn't keep up. The floor was spattered with spilled alcohol, bottles overflowing from the trash bins all around the bar. A light sheen of sweat glittered in the dim lights on Kat's skin, and James wiped a trickle from his brow. Bottle tricks were abandoned for speed and accuracy, and they still just couldn't keep up. The weather was warming up rapidly, and people were eager to leave the confines of their homes after being cooped up for the majority of the cold season. Though it paid off for the bar, it made for hectic and stressful nights.

The clink of a pair of coins falling into the jukebox sounded as she returned from the back room, a full bucket of ice in hand. The melody started, and she froze, looking up sharply, but no one was standing there. She glanced quickly at James, whose brow was quirked at her, and she forced a small smile, continuing to the ice bin.

"Just what I need," she muttered through a flirtatious smile to a customer as she slid a drink across the bar.

"Mind on the money," James reminded her, giving her his own charming smile and adding a wink. She couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head as she glanced to another customer for his order. It had slowed down a bit over the past half hour, and she decided to do a few bottle tricks just to make her concentrate on something, drawing applause from a few patrons watching.

"Five fifty, doll," she said, sliding the glass across the counter. The man slapped down a ten and told her to keep it, and she smiled her gratitude, the cash register chinging its happy chord as the drawer opened. From the corner of her eye, she saw a man approach the short side of the bar and sit, and she glanced quickly out of habit, the song still playing its melancholy tune calling up old demons. Her eyes narrowed. _It couldn't be,_ she thought.

"What can I get ya?" she asked cheerfully, eyeing the man. He looked eerily familiar, but she pushed the knot in her stomach away. His beard was too full and his hair too long, sprouting out from under the dirty cap he wore.

"Whiskey," he said, biting the filter of a cigarette. "House is fine." She lit it for him before turning to the bar and filling his glass.

"Three even," she said, setting the glass in front of him, placing her hands on the counter and leaning against them. "Do I know you?" He glanced up at her, watching her eyes narrow. A wry smile touched his lips, and he plucked the cigarette from between them, blowing a stream of smoke over her head.

"I don't know," he answered, tilting his head to the side. "Do you?" His eyes were haunting, the same vibrant color… _No, Kat,_ she chided herself.

"You been here before?" she pressed, gulping down the emotion as she took the five he held out to her.

"Keep it," he said, nodding to the money in her hand. She let a small smile slip into place, noticing James give her a worried glance. He'd noticed the change in her demeanor since she started serving this guy, and she felt his hand settle on her lower back. The patron's eyes flitted down to the point of contact, his eyebrow rising slowly to a quizzical arch. "Been here a few times, but it's been a while," he answered. She nodded, slamming the register drawer with her hip before turning back to him and leaning on her elbows against the counter. Her eyes shifted to a group of regulars standing from their table and she waved, plastering on the most genuine looking smile she could muster. She looked back at him, but he was staring down into his drink.

"We close in an hour just so you know. Might want to get your share in before then," she said, pointing toward his glass. He nodded, lifting his cigarette to his lips.

"I'm good for now." _God, even his voice… NO, Kat._ Her brows furrowed as she mentally scolded herself.

"You okay?" James whispered, nudging her with his elbow. She glanced up quickly, slightly surprised at the sudden contact, then gave him a tight smile and a single nod.

"Fuckin' seeing ghosts," she replied with a wince. He patted her shoulder and went back to his side of the bar. She and the guy at the end of the bar traded glances, and soon he was the only one left in the place.

"Hey Kat?" James called, dropping a handful of bottles into the trash. She looked up at him. "You gonna be okay?" Her eyebrow rose. _What's with his fucking hovering tonight?_ He gave her a weird look. "I told you yesterday I had to leave early tonight. The wife's parents are shuttling in for Jada's birthday."

"Oh, right," she said, kicking herself for forgetting. She followed James' gaze to the man still sitting at the bar, still nursing his first drink with a few minutes before closing. "Yeah, I'm fine," she said, giving him a dismissive shake of the head to tell him she could handle the customer if anything happened. His gaze lingered, and her eyes shifted to the drawer between their stations, which always contained a loaded gun, and he finally nodded, tossing her his towel and heading to the back room for his coat. She continued wiping down the bar, her eyes following James as he went out the front door, waving through the window as he neared the corner. Breaking glass broke the silence as she tossed the array of bottles remaining on the counter into the trash with a heavy sigh.

"Busy night?" She started a little, turning to the man still sitting at the end of the bar.

"You could say that," she responded, turning back to her work. "Closin' up pretty soon."

"I know," he said quietly, spinning his glass between his fingers. "You know of any motels close by?"

"There's one down the street a couple blocks," she said, heading out to wipe down the tables. The room fell silent, save the clicks and clinks of glasses as she cleaned up. She felt his eyes on her as she loaded a crate with dirty glasses and ignored him as long as she could. She made a show of looking up at the wall clock before turning her eyes on him, and he gave her a small smile.

"You look like you need the company," he said with a tiny shrug. Her eyebrow rose. "I don't mind staying until you're ready to count down the drawer." He gestured toward the cash register, sending a swirling stream of smoke into the air with the cigarette poised between his fingers. She let out a cackle.

"I'm fine," she insisted, the amused smile remaining. She hoisted the crate onto her shoulder and kicked open the swinging gate into the bar, walking behind him into the back room. He was still sitting there when she returned, watching her walk back around the bar. "You want me to call you a cab?" she asked, rubbing her nose with the back of her thumb. "They usually get here in a few minutes. Motel isn't far." He smiled, catching the hint. She watched him stand slowly, laying down a few UD bills on the counter. She shoved her hands in her pockets, watching him walk to the door, but he stopped, hand still poised over the knob.

"You don't recognize me, do you?" he asked quietly, his back still facing her. She swallowed thickly. "I thought for a minute there you might have, but now I'm not sure."

"What do you mean?" she asked. He turned slowly, giving her just a hint of a saddened smile.

"Still close up at three on Saturdays, Kat?" he asked, dodging her question. She blinked in surprise. _Probably heard James call me that,_ she thought quickly. He mirrored her nod and pulled the door open, pausing again in the doorway. "You look good." Her brows furrowed, and he gave her one last lingering glance before disappearing through the door. She let a shaky sigh escape and went to the door, her hands shaking as she twisted the lock.

After three tries, she still couldn't count the money. With an exasperated growl, she kicked the drawer shut, her hands going to her hips as she hung her head. _What the fuck was he talking about, I don't recognize him? How the fuck would I? Unless… Katrina, he's dead. Give it a fucking rest already. Christ._ She heaved a weary sigh and shook her head, finally getting the counting straight and finishing up closing. Her boots thudded heavily up the stairs, and she collapsed on the couch, rubbing her eyes. She gave her living room a bitter laugh and turned in for the night.

The next day was unusually slow, and the mystery man returned at midnight on the button. Her eyebrow rose as he came in the door, immediately going to the jukebox and punching in 159. She closed her eyes for a moment as the song started, and heard him take the seat he'd occupied the previous night, at the short end of the bar. She was in the middle of serving a customer a couple hours later when she felt James come up to her side and lean over to whisper to her.

"What's with this guy?"

"He's fine, Jim," she said quietly, shaking her head. "He's not harming anyone and he's paying your salary." He gave her a look, and she sighed. "What do you want me to do? Kick him out for being a little creepy? Christ. It's a fucking bar." She walked away, going into the back room for more ice, even though there was only an hour or so before closing. When James grudgingly left at three she noticed dude was playing with an empty shot glass, spinning it around on the countertop. He looked up at her quickly when she reached out, taking the glass from his fingers to refill it. "This one's on me," she said quietly, reaching for her own shot glass. He watched her with interest as she threw back her own shot, then turned to walk away.

"Thanks," he said quietly. Something in his voice made her stop and turn back to him with questioning eyes. She saw him look down at the chain hanging around her neck, and her fingers went to it. "You can keep it if you want to." Her brows furrowed.

"What?"

"Well," he said with a sigh, pausing to take a sip of his drink, "I saw it on you last night, and even though you don't recognize me, I'm giving you my permission to keep it."

"Look, I'm sure there's millions of necklaces out there like this. Maybe you're the one that has me confused with someone else. The guy who gave this to me is dead." He only stared back at her without expression. "Has been for two fuckin' years."

"I figured rumors would start, but not that they'd get all the way over here," he chuckled, shaking his head. She watched him, her whole body trembling, as he lit a cigarette, exhaling in a slow sigh. He heard wood scrape against wood and glanced down to her hands, which she held behind her back. His eyes flitted back up to her face, narrowing slightly. "How'd you hear about it?" he asked quietly.

"Hear about what?" She hoped her voice covered the click of the hammer pulling back, but the expression in his eyes told her differently.

"The death of your off again on again bed buddy, Katrina," he said gently. Her lip trembled, nostrils flaring as she tried to breathe. "Give me the gun," he demanded softly, holding his hand out. She raised it instead, and he judged the steadiness of her hand carefully. He wasn't about to try anything right now. Not until she calmed down.

"Who the fuck are you?" she whispered, her voice shaking. He sighed, lowering his head.

"Who the fuck do you think I am?" She blinked at the sudden force of his voice.

"I must be god damn crazy."

"And why's that, doll? You seein' ghosts?" Her eyes narrowed at him, and he lifted his hands from the counter slowly. "Listen to me, Kat," he said. "How else would I know what song to play when I walk in here, huh? How would I know where to sit so I can watch you and stay out of everyone else's way so they don't know you're fucking a merc?" She blinked quickly, shaking her head as her lip trembled. "How would I know that your parents died when you were twelve in a building fire down the street a few blocks?" Tears sprang from her eyes, and her gun wavered a little, but still didn't lower from its position on him. "How would I know that the ring on your finger has the same markings as a fucking jewelry box we saw on the street four years ago? And how would I know that you told me not to go and I should have just fucking listened but I didn't and look where it got me." He shook his head with a heavy sigh. "My girl doesn't fucking remember me."

"Would have been easier if you'd been smart enough to shave last night, Toombs," she said quietly. He lifted his head, watching her eye him warily as she set the gun down on the counter, keeping her hand close. "You coulda called, you know."

"No, Kat, I couldn't."

"Let me believe you were fucking_ dead_ for two _god damn years_, Toombs," she nearly yelled. "What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?"

"You wanna know something?" he asked, standing. "I came back. I didn't have to, but here I am. That should count for something."

"Two years, Toombs," she whispered, shaking her head. "You see this?" she demanded, raising her arm and taking the two steps to the side of the counter opposite him. He reached out, running his fingers along the scar on her forearm. "Three mercs walked in here six months ago and said there was a break at a prison and you got thrown in with something and they found you in pieces. Not only did you let me think you were fucking _dead_ for two _FUCKING_ years, you let me believe you didn't exactly go fast. I broke a glass and had to leave the bar so I could stitch myself up." It was obvious she was pissed off, but he had to laugh as she stood there huffing and puffing. She sighed, shaking her head, and his eyes widened as she picked the gun up, his laughs stopping suddenly.

"Oh, so, what. You're pissed off enough about it to fucking shoot me?"

"Chill out," she said calmly, uncocking the gun. "Being pissed off enough and being crazy enough to actually do it are two completely different things."

"Good to know," he said quietly, letting out a slow breath in relief. "So, uh…" he trailed off, licking his lips nervously as she set the gun back in the drawer and shut it quietly. "How's the bar doin'?"

"Still open, obviously. You saw how busy we were last night." She glanced at him quickly before starting to close down the register. "And just for the record, you're sleeping on the fucking couch." His snicker drew a sharp look, but his smile remained. He'd figured on that.

"You looked ready to pull your hair out last night," he commented. She shrugged a little, counting down the drawer. He watched her for a while, her lips silently moving as fast as her fingers.

"So who was it?" she asked between counting.

"Who was what?"

"The convict important enough for you to do something you knew better than to do?"

"Kat…"

"Just answer the fucking question," she said simply. "Who dragged you away when you knew just from how much the pay was how unlikely it was for you to get out with all your body parts?"

"It's not important." She sighed, dropping a stack of bills on the counter and leaning on her hands, the flexing of her arms not hidden under mesh today. "Riddick," he finally admitted. She glanced over at him quickly, then shook her head and went back to counting.

"Crazy mother fucker," she muttered.

"No shit," he snorted.

"I meant you." He sent her a glare, but she was too busy counting money to notice. The room fell silent as she finished her counting, and he watched her slip the money into the bag, along with the credit slips, and seal it, unwinding the other chain around her neck holding the register key. He followed her into the back room, and watched her position her body so he couldn't see the combination to the safe.

"Don't trust me, huh?" The safe opened, and she turned to look up at him.

"I might trust you with my life, but not my money," she commented flatly. "The creed is greed, remember?" He blinked a few times. "You're still a merc, Toombs. All about the money. I have no problem sleeping with my back to you, but you're not going anywhere near my safe." He shrugged, watching her put the money bag and register key in the safe and shut it, spinning the dial a few times before standing, just looking up at him for a moment, chewing on her lip. "You okay?"

"Few scrapes. Coupla burns. Bruises. Nothing big," he said quietly. The surprise registered in her eyes that he just told her what was wrong with him. She usually had to pry or trick him into telling or showing her.

"You're showering and shaving the minute you get up there," she commanded quietly. He nodded slowly, gesturing for her to lead the way up the stairs. After a lingering glance, she did, and he shook his head with a small smile as he followed her into the apartment.

There was no disposable razor on the back of the sink, or extra towels hanging on the shower door. The clothes he'd worn last time he was here weren't in the cupboard under the sink. His brow furrowed. She really had let him go. With a weighty sigh, he dug through the linen closet for a towel. There were two knocks on the door before it opened. She held a new razor, still in its plastic packaging, out to him. His fingers brushed hers as he took it from her. He knew the smile she gave him was forced, so he didn't return it, instead reaching out to smooth a wild hair from her forehead. Her eyes averted his, focusing instead on the floor next to her. His hand lingered on her cheek, thumb stroking her skin lightly.

"Your clothes are hanging in my closet," she said quietly. "Shorts are in the bottom drawer."

"You kept them?" Finally, she looked at him, the tiny smile she wore now more real, and he found himself smiling in return.

"Smelled like you," she said with a shrug, her smile falling. His chuckle was gravelly, deep in his throat. "Go on," she said, nodding at the shower stall behind him. "I'll throw some food together." He retracted his hand, and she took a step back from the door, pulling it shut behind her. His eyes closed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose. With a shake of his head, he tugged the knob to turn on the water and stepped under the spray, a contented grin sliding across his lips. She didn't turn when the bathroom door opened, and he paused to watch her for a while before heading into the bedroom to change.

They ate in silence, Toombs watching Kat stare down at her plate. When they were both done, she cleared the breakfast bar and loaded the dishwasher while he settled on the couch, staring at the blank vid screen. The water turned off, and he heard the towel rustle as she dried her hands, then felt her stand behind the couch, also staring at the blank screen.

"You gonna turn that on or just stare at it?" she asked quietly. He chuckled a little, letting his head loll to the side. His eyes followed her as she walked around the couch, settling on the cushion furthest from him. "I know you're wondering." His eyebrow rose, and he turned on the couch to face her. "There hasn't been anyone else," she said, staring at her hands in her lap.

"I wasn't wondering," he said slowly, unsure of whether it was what she wanted to hear or not. She glanced at him from the corner of her eye, then turned her head away from him, leaning it back against the top of the back cushion on the couch.

"Ever." He blinked a few times. "Not since this started," she continued. "I could always tell that's what you were thinking when I looked at you. Just the way you looked at me told me that."

"Kat—"

"It wasn't because I didn't want you to overreact and kill someone or because you were the only person I could have given two shits about." She paused, licking her lips as she shook her head. "You were the only person I trusted enough." He rubbed his forehead, moving to lie down on the couch, dropping his head in her lap. She lifted her arms to let him, but settled them it a place where her hands didn't touch him. He let his arm hang off the side of the couch, wrapping his fingers around one of her calves. "And I don't expect you to say the same thing. Wouldn't believe you even if you did say it."

"And you'd be right," he said gently. A quick smile touched her lips but was gone as soon as it came. "But it wasn't because I wasn't thinking about you."

"Yeah."

"I mean it, Kat. The team didn't know about you and I wanted to keep it that way. For you. There's a lot of people out there that would do anything to get to me and that includes going through you."

"I've always known that."

"It's like the narcotics cops doin' drugs. You gotta do what you gotta do, you know?"

"Stop, Toombs," she said quietly but firmly. "I know. Just quit explaining." He sighed, rubbing his forehead. "I'm not like you. Just because you fucked other people doesn't mean I'm gonna track them down and get even."

"And you think I would?" he asked, a little put off.

"You know you'd consider it," she said plainly, chewing on a thumbnail. "So what's the deal now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you expecting a call in a few days or what? Tomorrow maybe?" She sounded angry, but he knew better.

"They think I'm dead, too, Kat." That made her glance down at him, and he reached up, threading his fingers through her hair.

"So you're done with it." He only gazed up at her. "You mean it." A small nod. "I don't believe you."

"What am I gonna do? Walk into headquarters and say, 'Hey guys. I'm not really dead. Give me a fucking job so I can almost die again.' Jesus Christ, Kat." Her eyebrow rose.

"Lotta money to turn down."

"And you could use a bouncer," he said with a small smile. That got a snicker out of her.

"Yeah, I need a fuckin' bouncer. Have you seen how much I _don't_ need a bouncer, Toombs? I give someone a hard look and they run out with their tail between their legs squealing like a stuck pig. Christ. Fuckin' bouncer my ass."

"Okay, what then?"

"What the fuck makes you think I'm gonna just let you move in here and take over my life?" she snapped. He sat up suddenly, spinning around to face her.

"You expect me to believe you were okay with just seeing me once every three or four, sometimes six to ten, months. Not knowing when or if I was coming back?" Her eyebrow rose. "Shit, Kat. You couldn't hide how happy you were to hear that fuckin' song if you gouged your fuckin' eyes out and wore a bag over your head." Her eyes narrowed, and she stood suddenly, pacing back and forth in front of him.

"There's a difference, Toombs," she finally said, stopping to stare down at him heatedly. "You coming here once in a while was one thing, but you moving in…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Jesus Christ, having to see you every day…" Another pause. "Fuck. This wasn't supposed to be serious, Toombs," she finally explained. "I never wanted a commitment. I don't need one. I don't have the fucking time for one. I own a bar. That's two full time jobs on one person. Having to cultivate a relationship with someone is an addition I can't deal with right now. Hell, I don't know if I ever could." She stopped to look at him, but he only stared back up at her, waiting for her to continue on her tirade. "God." She sighed, shaking her head. "The only reason you were safe was because you were always gone," she muttered softly.

"What are you talking about?" he asked, his posture straightening. She huffed, flopping back onto the couch.

"I don't have friends. Hell, James isn't even a friend. I swore to myself a long time ago that I would never let someone know me, really know me," she admitted. "I figured…" she trailed off, shaking her head with a sardonic snicker.

"You wouldn't get hurt."

"No. I figured I'd have less liabilities that way." His eyebrow rose, and she looked away. "I've always looked out for number one. If people know me, they can make it harder for me to be able to do that. I don't have relationships with people – real relationships – because they're too risky."

"And now?"

"What do you mean, and now?" He tilted his head to the side, his blue eyes chiding her question. She sighed. "I never meant for it to get to this point, Toombs," she said quietly. "I'm sorry."

"What are you saying?"

"I don't know," she snapped. "I've never been in a position to have to think about this."

"Well, I guess I'm glad you're at least considering giving me a fucking chance here," he snorted sarcastically.

"At least I'm talking about what's going on in my mind," she spat, glaring at him for a moment.

"Oh, you want me to spill my shit now, is that it?" Her eyebrow quirked at him, and he stood, pacing just as she did. "I spent three months trying to survive on a fucking hell hole just to get the communications system back up. I lost a pay day, almost got killed in the process, and ended up fucking stranded on a planet no one goes to unless it's to drop off a convict or supplies. Got the comm system up, couldn't get a response, so I had to spend another two months trying to find a glitch in the system corrupting the broadcast. Finally, I got through and had to wait another month and a half before someone bothered to drop off a skiff for me, and _then_, I had to find a way to make money without calling attention to myself so I could get back here." He stopped, rubbing his eyes. "I hopped all over the fuckin' universe trying to get back here and now you're telling me you don't know if you can start a serious relationship when we've already _fucking_ got one started."

"You could have told me," she said stubbornly. "I could have prepared myself to avoid this fucking argument if you'd bothered to let me know you were trying to get back. I could have wired you the fucking money."

"How?" He exploded. "The only way I know how to get in contact with you is to show up at your fucking bar and hope you made it through the fucking winter. Why the fuck couldn't you start your fucking business on a planet that doesn't have such fucked up weather?" She snickered, shaking her head, and he finally laughed as well after a moment, but they both straightened up after a short while. "Jesus, Kat. I did everything I could possibly think of to track you down without putting you in danger and it's still not good enough for you. What the fuck do you want from me?" She leaned her elbows on her knees, letting her head drop.

"You should have shaved before you came here last night," she said quietly. He chuckled, crouching in front of her, burying his fingers in her curls.

"I didn't even think about it, darlin'," he drawled. She lifted her head slowly, brows furled as she stared up at him.

"I need some time," she said softly. His hands withdrew from her hair, and he stood, going to the window looking out over the city. She sighed, standing slowly and stretching before walking to stand behind him. He tensed as she ran her hands down his bare arms, glancing over his shoulder quickly before turning back to the window. She tugged on his arm, making him turn around. His eyes closed as she reached up, running her fingers through his curls to rest a hand around the back of his neck. She drew him down into a short kiss. "I need some time," she repeated, her voice barely audible. He nodded, and she leaned against his chest in a loose hug. It took a while for his arms to wrap around her tentatively, and she arched her back, pressing into him. "I missed you," she finally whispered, turning her head to nuzzle the side of his neck, feeling his pleased rumble as his arms tightened around her slightly. She gave him a quick squeeze before pulling out of his grasp, sending him a small smile as she turned toward the bedroom. He sighed, collapsing onto the couch.

"Christ," he grumbled, shaking his head. He adjusted the pillows behind his head, hoping to fall asleep before the sun came up.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Kat woke in the middle of the night, startled. She didn't know if she'd had a bad dream she just didn't remember or what, but she was wide awake. She sat up in bed, stretching lazily, and got up, tiptoeing into the main room, a soft smile touching her lips as she watched him sleep. He was sprawled all over the couch, twitching every now and then before he'd mumble something and shift. Her quiet chuckle made him start, but he didn't wake, and she reached for a blanket thrown over the back of her chair, pulling it over him and tucking him in, just enough to keep him from kicking the blanket off accidentally. He smiled in his sleep and settled down a little, giving a soft little sigh that shouldn't haven't been able to come from a man like him. She shook her head, heading back into her bedroom.

---

"Kat, if you don't keep hitting snooze I'm gonna come in there and make sure you get the fuck out of bed!" She opened her eyes, staring at the clock until the alarm went off again. Her door flew open just as she was reaching to shut it off, and she glared over her shoulder at him before hitting the button and burrowing under the sheets again. "Your breakfast is getting cold," he said quietly, leaning against the doorframe and crossing his ankles. The covers flew back and she sat up, legs sprawled out straight.

"You made breakfast?" He couldn't help but smile. Her hair was rumpled and she wore the grumpiest pout he'd ever seen.

"Yeah," he said through a quiet chuckle. She stood up, shuffling into the kitchen to inspect his work.

"I didn't know you could cook," she commented. She shivered, crossing her arms over her chest. "Why is it so fucking cold in here?"

"Maybe because you're just wearing a beater and underwear," he said, his coffee cup poised at his lips as he spoke. She blinked, watching him take a slow sip from the steaming mug. The pout hadn't dissipated, and he found himself smirking again. She glanced down at herself and swore. "Nothing I haven't seen before," he quipped with a shrug, receiving another cranky glare. He bit back a laugh as she spun around, marching back into her room, and hid his smile as she re-emerged wearing a pair of sweats.

"Got more coffee?" she asked, but he was already pouring her a cup. He held it out to her, smirking as the pout continued.

"You're a grump in the morning, aren't you?" She harrumphed at him, taking the cup and sniffing at the steam.

"You sleep okay?" she asked finally, after taking a couple sips from her mug.

"Yeah," he said, turning back to the waffle iron he'd dug out of the back of one of her cabinets. "Thanks for the blanket, by the way." She nodded, settling into a stool at the breakfast bar to watch him play domestic.

"Where'd you learn how to cook?"

"When you eat MREs for months at a time, you teach yourself when you get some down time." She nodded slowly. "How'd you sleep?"

"Mm," she mumbled through her coffee. "Okay." He glanced over his shoulder at her.

"Just okay?" he asked, plopping a waffle on a plate and handing it to her. She reached for the butter he'd set out on the counter, nodding.

"Be nice to James," she said quietly, foregoing the syrup to pick the waffle up and eat it like toast. He turned sharply, eyeing her. "He knows you died, so he might be a little, um…" she trailed off, trying to think of the right word, "flabbergasted." His eyebrow rose. "He's touchy when he gets that way." His brow stayed quirked at her, but he nodded slowly. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind some time off, so you get to train tonight. It'll be one of the slower nights of the week. Easiest to keep your bearings under pressure that way. We'll phase you in over a week or so before I give him a break."

"Bartending," he said slowly.

"Yeah. You bounce, you gotta know how to cover the bar if you have to," she said, punctuating the statement with a bite of her waffle. He turned around completely, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the counter behind him. Her brow rose slowly to mirror his. "We'll see how it goes and I'll decide when I think the time is right," she said. "But I'm telling you, I'm not giving you a break here. You bust your ass just like me and James do and you can stay. Just because you're great in bed doesn't mean I'll feel obligated to keep you on." A cocky smirk touched his lips, but he squelched it quickly.

"And if I fail the test?"

"You're on your own, sweetheart," she said with a small shrug. "There's a few places around here that might let you bounce without knowing shit about tending bar, but you'll have to find them yourself. I don't talk much with the competition." He nodded, turning back to the sink. She watched him for a while, finally smirking. "Why don't you just go ahead and ask," she suggested. He paused, his head turning toward her slightly, but he didn't look at her.

"What's the verdict?"

"About what?" she asked sweetly, the smirk turning into a grin.

"Jesus Christ," he sighed. "You're giving me a chance to work for you, I get that much. But that don't mean you're gonna keep me."

"Keep you?" she snickered. "Shit, you make yourself sound like a lost dog." He chuckled, shaking his head. Her jovialness faded, and she stared into her coffee cup. "I can't promise anything, Toombs," she said quietly, heaving a sigh. "We'll see what happens." He turned slowly, drying his hands.

"You know what you're doin'?" Her eyebrow rose, and he rubbed his eyes. "You do know you're putting yourself at risk having me here." She nodded, lifting her eyes to his. "I mean, someone walks in and knows who I am, I don't know what's gonna happen."

"That gun's always behind the counter. You carry if you think you need to," she said. "Not many bouncers do. You get in a tussle, and they might be able to get it away from you. Your call."

"You know what I'm talking about," he said quietly.

"Yeah, I do," she said, standing. He took the plate she held out to him and ran water in it. She watched him produce a pack of cigarettes from his back pocket and light one. His eyebrow rose as she reached out and plucked it from his lips, taking a long, slow drag, expecting her to cough.

"When did you learn to smoke?" he asked. She shrugged, but the tug of a smile at the corners of her lips made him note to press her about it later. He quickly replaced the cigarette she stole, watching her slide her makeshift ashtray a little closer to him.

"You're talking about a situation where a former pay day walks in and says, 'Hey, that's Toombs. I thought he was dead. Mother fucker took me in and made my life a living hell,' or a situation where a former team mate comes in and says, 'Hey, that's Toombs. I thought he was dead. Mother fucker took me on a run and left me out there without a fuckin' penny'." His eyebrow rose. "What, you thought I didn't know that happened? Christ. I'm a fuckin' bartender. People talk too much when they're shitfaced."

"And yet here I am asking you if you're sure you want me to stay here," he said slowly. She tilted her head to the side.

"I knew you were a merc when you walked through my door the first time, darlin'," she said with a small smile. "I've served some of those former team mates you left behind. And yes, here you are. What's so hard to understand about that? It's the nature of the business." He blinked, and she sighed, scratching her head. "I've never pretended the world was a nice place, Toombs," she continued, pausing for another quick drag. "I grew up on these streets here in New Harlem. I know what it's like to make due with what you have and fight to keep it. I know street justice just as well as you, and I know survival just as well as you."

"I just want to make sure you know what you're getting yourself into," he said quietly. "The risk you're putting yourself and your bar at."

"It's the same risk I put myself at the first time I let you keep my bed warm. Just a little more visible," she said, watching the wheels turn as he mulled that over. "You wanna argue about this some more?" He held his hands up in mock surrender and smiled.

"Ground rules?" he asked with the most charming grin he could muster.

"Don't bring anyone up to my apartment, especially your whores," she said, holding his gaze and watching his smile fall. "No drugs, no drinking on the job, and keep the back door locked unless you're walking through it. Touch my safe and I'll kill you myself."

"Is that it?"

"Think you can handle it?" she asked, cocking her head.

"I've got a few rules of my own," he said with a smirk. Her eyebrow rose.

"This is my apartment. You want to pay rent?" He chuckled, but she didn't smile.

"One, come up with something else to call me that I can remember. Two, learn to trust me completely. Three, if you want to make this just a business arrangement, make some room for a cot or something. That couch fuckin' kills my back." She smiled a little. "Four, read up on the cases I've handled. I mean pictures and everything. I want you to be able to recognize someone as quick as me. And five, learn how to wake up when your alarm goes off the first time." She snickered at the last rule, shaking her head. "Deal?"

"Deal," she agreed, still laughing. "I just thought of one more." He crossed his arms over his chest. "We're not together when we're working," she said slowly. He took a step forward, and she tilted her head back a little to look up at him. "That's just askin' for more trouble on your end."

"I don't know if I can do that," he said, glancing down at the smile playing on her lips. "You might have to switch up some of your clothes if you expect me to keep my hands off you." Her smile deepened.

"I keep forgetting you're not exactly the poster child for self-control," she said, tilting her head a little to the side as she took a step toward him. His eyebrow twitched upwards a little.

"Might be a liability having me as a bouncer then," he said, his own smirk surfacing.

"You're right," she said, spinning away from him and walking away. "You're fired." His hands went to his hips, and he shook his head, licking his lips.

"Damn," he whispered, closing his eyes. When he opened them, she was leaning against the doorframe to the bedroom, eyebrow quirked in a challenge.

"We open late on Sundays," she said quietly, glancing behind her at her alarm clock. "Three hours before we start prepping." His eyebrow rose as well, but he didn't move. She rolled her eyes, stomping across the floor toward him.

"I take it you decided against the business arrangement?"

"Don't make me get violent to get what I want from you," she warned, mustering the most menacing glare she could, but only getting a chuckle. "I will."

"By all means, baby," he said, crossing his arms over his chest. "Bring it on." Her eyes narrowed, and she just stared at him for a while. He reacted quickly, catching her wrist as she threw a punch, and twisted her arm, slamming her against the wall. The breath left her in a grunt, and he jammed his knee between her thighs, sliding her up the wall. Her other arm swung, but he caught it as well, pinning both of her arms above her head. She wrapped her legs around his waist, still glaring down at him. "You really think you could get away with that?" he growled, lowering his foot back to the ground once he was sure the grip her legs had on him would hold her up.

"Maybe I just wanted to provoke you into being the aggressive one," she hissed, still slightly out of breath from the impact with the wall. He chuckled, shaking his head as he released her arms, prompting a moan as he pressed his hips against her to keep her against the wall. She laced her fingers behind his neck, pulling him toward her, but he only let his lips barely brush hers, fighting her attempts to tug him closer. She let out a growl, her head falling back with a quiet thunk against the wall. He chuckled again, moving his lips to her throat and torturing her with light kisses and nips. By the time he pulled her away from the wall, she'd given into letting him have his way with her.

"You know you're gorgeous when you're pissed off?" he asked against her skin, his voice a low rumble in his throat as he walked her back to the bedroom. She chuckled, twining her fingers in his curls and jerking his head back.

"You want me to get pissed off again for ya?" she asked, poising her lips just above his in the same barely-there kiss he'd tortured her with. He let out one of her favorite laughs, but she quieted it, claiming his lips in a frantic kiss, quickly making up for two years lost. The kiss was only broken by his dumping her on the bed, quickly kicking off his boots and joining her there, pulling her under him by her hips.

"Just to warn you, this is gonna be quick," he whispered, his hands sliding up her sides, nudging her shirt up.

"We've got three hours," she panted, ripping her shirt over her head before going to work on his. "You're not quite old enough yet to worry about not being able to bounce back fast enough."

"Oh, ouch," he chuckled, shifting to let her tug his shirt off and toss it somewhere on the floor. "Low blow. I'll get you back for that one." She chuckled, lifting her hips up to let him wrench her sweats from her.

"Look forward to it," she replied, groaning and arching into him as he let his weight press her into the mattress. "Guess we'll just have to see if my calculations about your refractory period are correct, though, won't we?"

"You're cruisin' sweetheart," he growled, fighting with his jeans. She sat up, watching him with an amused smirk.

"For what?"

"A serious bruisin' if you don't cut that shit out," he said, sending her a wicked grin. Her smirk fell slowly, and she tensed.

"You're not serious," she said slowly. His smile fell, his expression softening a bit as he moved to hover over her again.

"I'd never hurt you, doll," he whispered. "But I'm hoping the threat will be enough to drop the age jokes."

"You know I'm kidding," she replied, sounding too hopeful for him to not feel guilty about calling her on it.

"If I didn't, you really think I'd still be here?" he asked, brushing her hair away from her face. She blinked. His lips met hers gently, and it took her a moment to respond. When he pulled back, she still had that apprehensive expression, and he sighed, resting his forehead against hers. "Let's get one thing straight here," he said quietly. "We're both here because we want to be, so I seriously doubt you'd really have that much of a problem with my age and still be a willing accomplice." Her arms tightened around his shoulders, back arching as he pressed into her, his moan vibrating through her and sending chills up her spine. "When I'm serious you'll know it," he continued breathlessly, pausing to press his lips to hers with another gravelly groan. "And if I can't take your cruel teasing you'll know it."

"Is that the bruise part?" she asked, digging her fingers into his shoulder blades with a whimper.

"I think that's the only empty threat I've ever made," he said breathlessly. Her teeth sunk into his lower lip as he started moving, no more words spoken. He found himself concentrating intently on holding off, trying to make the most of it for her, but she pulled her lips from his, gently nipping at his ear.

"Make it up to me later," she whispered, grinding her hips against his as he slowed to keep his control in check. His grunt sounded like he was in pain, and she glanced up at him, watching him let his control slip. She stroked his back as he shuddered, holding him tightly as he trembled against her, marveling in the weight of him. He shuddered again as she pressed her lips to his temple, another raspy moan rumbling in his chest. His head settled against her chest, his nose resting in the hollow of her throat, and she ran her fingers through his hair. He stared at the clock, and when everything registered, he closed his eyes, shaking his head.

"Fucking pathetic," he muttered, turning away from the clock. She glanced at it and chuckled, prompting another guttural moan from him.

"How long has it been?"

"Too long," he mumbled.

"Like I said, you can make it up to me later." He sighed heavily, lifting away from her and settling back down, sliding his hands under her to grasp her shoulders. She dropped another kiss on the top of his head. "Get up and get in the shower," she commanded quietly. "We gotta get moving if we're gonna explain this to James and have time for him to adjust." Toombs only grumbled, tightening his grip on her. She let out a laugh, trying to sit up.

"Gimme a minute," he said, his weight keeping her from sitting up all the way, and she flopped back into the pillows with a lazy sigh.

"You really think you can give it up?" she asked quietly, toying with the curls sprouting from his head.

"What?"

"Bein' a merc." He lifted his head to look at her, eyebrow poised into a question.

"You don't believe me," he surmised, eyeing her carefully. She sighed, letting her eyes close.

"It's an addiction," she said softly. "You're used to the adrenaline, the hunt. And you won't get that staying here."

"And?"

"And I don't know what you're thinking, trying to give it up. It's in your blood, Toombs. Why are you starting this when you know you'll want to go back to the life eventually?"

"I'm getting too old for it, Kat," he grumbled quietly, shaking his head as he relaxed against her again. "Reflexes are slower, need more sleep. I can't do it forever, and I've always known that."

"But…"

"But nothing," he insisted with a small shrug. "It was great while it lasted but keeping it up is just asking for it." She nodded slowly, and he didn't see the pained and concerned expression in her eyes. She continued playing with his hair, letting him fall into a light sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

Toombs heaved a sigh and collapsed into the bench behind a large, circular booth in the corner of the bar, shaking his head. Kat chuckled to herself, watching James fight back the laughs. Kat had to admit that Toombs, or T as they called him in public now, did much better than she'd expected. She knew he'd be able to handle the pressure, but he caught on fast, even trying a few bottle spinning tricks. It was a good thing they had more booze on backorder.

"Man, you did a number on my stock, darlin'," she called, winking at James from across the room. James let out a snicker, focusing harder on the table he was wiping down to keep from laughing out loud. Toombs picked his head up, a tired grin on his face.

"Good thing it was the cheap shit, though, right?"

"I don't know…" she said. "The cheap shit tends to go faster." He shrugged, sitting up and leaning on the backrest of the bench. "Why don't you make yourself useful and start wiping down tables?" she asked, chucking a wet towel at him. He grumbled, but caught it out of the air and started at the end opposite from where James was working.

"Did better than I thought," James said. "You actually made it through the whole night."

"Wasn't _that_ hard," Toombs said quietly. Kat glanced up at him with a smirk.

"Kat's gone through five trainees in the past four months," James offered. "Just walked in and wanted to help out. What was the record, Kat?"

"Two hours," she said, "but it was a Friday night when they started so it wasn't exactly a fair chance."

"Intentionally?" Toombs asked. Kat turned around as she shrugged, hiding her grin as she capped the liquor bottles. "I saw that smile," he chided. Finally, she let out a laugh.

"Yeah, it was intentional. I don't need any more tenders," she said quietly. "Me and James seem to do a good job. We work well together, people are used to us." A small shrug. "The people here don't like change. They want to walk into a bar and know who they're dealing with." Toombs nodded, taking the last table left to be wiped down. James twirled his towel around a finger as he walked back to the bar, dropping it into the bucket of soapy water. "You can go ahead and bounce, James," she said, smiling at the man. His eyebrow rose. "I'm gonna show him how to close up. Go make your wife squeal." James laughed at that, shaking his head.

"Y'all planning on coming out to our place for summer solstice?" Kat glanced at Toombs quickly, who was staring back at her blankly.

"It's a big deal here," she explained with a small smile. "The winters are so cold they celebrate the longest day of the year during the summer." His eyebrow rose, but he nodded, and she turned back to James. "I don't know yet," she told him. "Have to talk about it."

"Let us know," he said, tossing a glance to Toombs. She nodded, waving as he walked through the door.

"Will you lock up?" she asked quietly. Toombs nodded, going to the door and turning the lock with a loud click. "You did good." He shrugged, leaning against the bar as he scratched his chin. A smirk lit his face as she slapped a shot glass down in front of him, wiggling her eyebrows as she nodded behind her to the collection of bottles lined up in front of the mirror on the back wall. "What'll ya have?"

"Thought there was no drinking on the job," he said slowly. She chuckled, adding a glass to his and filling it with her usual brand of whiskey.

"No customers, door's locked, and all that's left is counting." He shrugged, and she rolled her eyes, turning and grabbing the stuff she used to serve him during his visits.

"So how long will I have to do this before you'll let me get to my real job?" he asked, clinking his glass against hers before they both downed the shots.

"When you can take three orders at once without confusing them or getting flustered we'll talk about it," she said, taking his glass from him and turning them both into the crate waiting to be loaded into the washer. "Take that crate back to the washer and load it up. All you gotta do is push the green button." He nodded, hoisting the crate onto his shoulder. She smiled, shaking her head as he kicked open the door to the back room. He stood at the counter as she counted down the drawer, his eyes widening as she wrote the day's profits on the envelope.

"Damn," he whispered.

"Not as great as you're thinking," she chuckled, shaking her head. "Mortgage is 500 UDs a month. Power's usually about ninety. Booze, shit. Depends on how busy it is, but last year it averaged 2000 a month. Plus repairs, water bill, replacing broken glasses, trash service, sewage, and, and, and…"

"Christ."

"Why do you think I worry so much about the cold season?" she asked quietly. "It gets too damn frigid out there for people to even try to walk down the street for groceries, much less spend time in a fuckin' bar."

"I didn't know it got that bad," he said gently, following her into the back room. She blocked his view of the safe combination again, locking up the money and register key before turning to him for a moment. She shrugged and headed up the stairs. He only watched her for a moment, then followed, closing and locking the door behind him.

"We'll make it." He rubbed her shoulders for a moment, both of them standing in the middle of her apartment. "I need to go into town tomorrow," she said, letting her head fall back against his shoulder.

"Want me to go with you?"

"If you want to," she said with a small shrug. A rumble vibrated in his chest as he pressed his lips to the side of her neck, her hand reaching behind her to wrap around his neck. "You tired?"

"Wasted," he chuckled. She laughed as well, pulling out of his hands and walking into the bedroom. He followed, scratching his head as he yawned. She felt his eyes on her as she changed and slipped under the covers. He peeled his shirt off, tossing it over the back of her desk chair, his jeans following. As he crawled under the sheets, she slid across the bed, pressing her back to his chest. A low, rumbling chuckle escaped him, and she smiled as his arm slid around her, pulling her tighter.

"I still can't believe you're here," she nearly whispered. His arm tightened around her in a light squeeze, and she felt him kiss the back of her neck.

"Will be tomorrow, too," he mumbled. She let out a contented sigh, closing her eyes to concentrate on feeling him at her back again.

---

The rain pounded on the windows, but the communications system was able to filter it out, the conversation unobstructed. Four fingers tapped on the desk nervously as the call went through, three quiet pings signaling the connection.

"You got something for me or are you just interrupting the little time I have to go out and get laid for shits and giggles?" A harsh voice asked. A quick smile, and then back to business.

"Heard you talkin' a while back about that merc bein' dead," a man said, adjusting the volume control on his system.

"Yeah, what about it?" the other asked.

"He's not."

"What?!"

"I can tell you how to find him," the man continued, his tone carrying the message that there would be negotiations first.

"What the fuck makes you so sure?"

"Trust me. You want him or not?"

"Why the fuck would I? Unless he's back in business and driving my profits down, I don't give a shit."

"He won't stay out for long. And besides," the man said with a quiet chuckle. "You have a beef with him anyway. Didn't he leave you behind on one of the Lupus planets?"

"Yeah. Four. But that was eight years ago."

"Don't tell me you're fuckin' over it. Especially since he's planning on coming back."

"You're sure he's coming back."

"Yes. But does it matter? Revenge is fucking revenge," the man trying to peddle his information said, his voice rising slightly.

"How do I find him?"

"Tell me what's in it for me first."

"Hey, you called me if I remember right," the other said over the system. "You're the one that brought it up. Just fucking tell me."

"My time is worth money, asshole," the man spat hatefully. "Give me a price and I'll consider whether or not I'll tell you where to find him.

"Five thousand."

"Wasting my fucking time," the dealer grumbled.

"Okay, fine. Eight. Not more."

"Deal." The information was relayed and the conversation terminated.

---

Toombs started bouncing a few weeks after showing up at Kat's following his two year absence. He'd sit at a corner booth against the far wall, just watching over the bar. Kat would keep his glass full of iced tea, and he'd just sit back and monitor. It was a Friday night, crazy busy as usual, and Kat and James both were running around behind the bar frantically. But he only sat back and watched, as per his job description. There had already been a couple of little tussles, but nothing major. Toombs had just stood and approached those involved and they quieted down, settling for casting angry glares across the room at each other. They'd either settle it in a nearby alley after leaving the bar or pass out and forget about it until the next time they got too drunk to control themselves. Such was the nature of the business. He heard the door open and close and glanced up, not seeing anyone new coming in. Figured someone must have just left. His eyes darted around, but he couldn't think of who it could have been. Everyone in the bar now had already been here, and there wasn't anyone he could tell was missing. He glanced over at the bar, and Kat was already walking towards him, her face slightly pale, jaw set. His eyebrow rose, and he started to stand, but she shook her head, closing the distance.

"What's up?" he asked quietly as she leaned over the table to get closer to him without getting boxed into the booth.

"We've got a serious problem," she whispered. His brows furled. "Riddick." Toombs' blue eyes widened, then narrowed as he started searching. "He's at the bar. James has him. Peppermint schnapps."

"Doesn't mean anything, Kat," he said, catching the implication she drew from the drink Riddick had chosen. "Just keep quiet for now. Don't come back here, don't look over here. Don't act like you recognize him. What did you tell James?"

"I needed another bottle of vodka." He nodded.

"Get it and get back. Anything happens, drop a glass." She nodded, turning toward the back room.

---

When Riddick walked into the bar, he'd known he was recognized the minute the door swung shut behind him. He felt two pairs of eyes on him, one from the bar and one from a back table somewhere. The girl had sent him a tight smile and told the male bartender they were out of vodka. Once he'd given the male bartender, James was his name, his order, his eyes had slid over to the collection of bottles lined up neatly in front of a giant mirror. Unless she kept a bottle up her ass, there was no room for another supposedly missing bottle of vodka. His eyebrow rose, and he hid his smirk behind his glass. She appeared a few moments later, hurrying into the back room. He wondered for a moment where she'd been looking for the vodka. No other doors in this place, just the front door and the one leading to the back room, most likely the stock room.

"Who's the girl?" he asked quietly once James came a little closer. Just then, the girl burst back into the room, boots thumping madly across the floor, vodka bottle in hand. It was a brand already out on display, and she set it in a cabinet, along with several other bottles already there. _Damn. Double stocked,_ Riddick thought with a mental grimace. Maybe his instincts _were_ getting a little duller lately. _Okay, so stocked on the counter, stocked in the cabinet, and stocked in the back. She over order?_ James' brows shot up, and he nodded over his shoulder toward the girl now smiling at a customer as she juggled a bottle in her hand, spinning it around her fingers and behind her to come over her shoulder, catching it and pouring several shots without spilling a drop. "Impressive," Riddick said quietly, brow still quirked.

"She owns the place," James said. Riddick nodded slowly, turning back to his drink. "But I wouldn't even try if I were you. She's hands off to all the customers. Got a man," he explained.

"Really."

"Yup."

"Hmm," Riddick mumbled, lifting his glass to his lips. He rubbed an eye with a finger, unnoticeably adjusting the colored contacts hiding his shine. Didn't want a silver edge to peek out when he was trying to blend in and all. A bottle clunked against the counter next to him and he looked up quickly, staring into a pair of eyes holding his gaze without wavering. He made a show of looking her over, and a confident smirk slid onto her lips.

"Enjoying yourself?" she asked quietly, tilting her head to the side. He took a slow, deliberate breath and leaned back a little on his stool as he cocked a brow at her. A hint of a genuine smile touched her lips, and she shrugged, refilling his glass. "Haven't seen you here before," she continued. "I've found that the best way to keep my bar open is to learn my customers' names and a little something about them. Make it a more personal, tailored experience." A low chuckle vibrated in his throat, and her smile grew. "What's your name?"

"Why do you want to know my name?" he asked, watching the goosebumps rise on her skin at the depth of his voice. A slight flush touched her cheeks.

"I just told you," she said, shaking her head slightly as she stood up, still clutching the bottle. He glanced at her hand, noticing she wasn't hanging onto the damn thing extremely tight, like she was so scared she needed something to ground herself on. No, either she had no idea who he was or she just flat out didn't give a shit. "I like to know a little something about my customers."

"I'm a customer you don't want to know anything about," he said calmly. "That's a little something about me." She chuckled a little, leaning toward him against the bar again.

"Doesn't count. You're not playing fair," she chided playfully. She heard the low growl, then felt James' hand on her back. Riddick couldn't help but chuckle as she turned and glared at the man, whispering a few choice words before kicking his foot. James smirked, his own chuckle vibrating in his throat. "You were saying," she said, cocking her eyebrow at him in a warning as she turned back to him.

"If you've really got that bad of a hard-on for me, my name's Rick," Riddick chuckled, lifting his glass to his lips.

"Rick," she repeated. "You sure you haven't been here before?" He shook his head slowly, eyeing her. "You look familiar."

"I've just got one of those faces." Her laugh lilted in his ears, and he found himself smiling.

"Yeah, that must be it," she said with a small shrug. "Let me know if you need anything," she added, tapping a finger on the bar in front of him before turning back to what seemed to be her half of the long counter. He watched her for a while, but she gave no indication she was glancing at someone to warn them, not feeling along the underside of the bar for a security alarm button or anything. Nothing to let him know whether or not he'd freaked her out or that she knew who he really was. She glanced at him from time to time, a small smirk playing on her lips, but he couldn't tell whether it was because she was pleased to have gotten his name out of him or if she was playing him. He kept his face expressionless as he watched her, trying to figure her out. At one point, she caught his eyes on her and met them, her own eyes as unreadable as his, and that frustrated him. She walked back to him, reaching for a bottle of peppermint schnapps as she passed, but he shook his head. Her steps halted, brows furrowing. She grabbed the booze anyway, setting it down silently next to him. Her fingers ran down the label, and she spun the bottle around in a slow circle. "I know you're not turning down my good booze," she warned, that playful smirk returning to her lips. "Not even if it's on me." His brow rose at that, and he looked away, smiling slightly.

"I never get drunk, sweetheart," he chuckled. "Not even for you." She clicked her tongue at him.

"You're not even close," she whispered, winking at him as she filled his glass again. "I'll even cut it with tonic water for ya. Make it a little weaker for your pussy stomach." His smile fell, but the smirk she wore was just too damn alluring. His eyes shifted over her shoulder of their own volition, and he knocked the shot glass off the table. She jumped back to avoid the flying shards. "What the fuck?!" she gasped, watching him stand with an animalistic growl, walking along the bar and shoving people out of his way. Her head snapped over her shoulder, eyes widening as Toombs rose from his table, stepping down onto the main floor. "No," she whispered.

Patrons standing nearby quickly moved, creating a small circle around the pair of men standing about a body length away from each other, arms hanging loosely at their sides, just staring at each other. Toombs wore his usual cocky smirk, and Riddick's glower just made the smirk widen.

"So you finally got away from them, huh?" Toombs finally said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Thought I fed you to the animals," Riddick spat back. Toombs' brow rose, but he didn't say anything.

"I'm out, guy," Toombs said quietly. "Why don't you chill the fuck out, sit down and have a drink and we can talk this over like adults, huh?"

"I've got nothing to say to you," Riddick growled, his lip curling just slightly. Suddenly, the girl was in the middle, and his eyes narrowed down at her. She settled her hands on her hips, taking a few steps toward him.

"Kat…" Toombs trailed off when she held a hand behind her to silence him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair. She placed her left foot between Riddick's, her right along the outside of his left, her body almost touching his. He watched her stare at his chest for a moment before looking up at him and taking a breath.

"Why don't you sit down and have a drink," she whispered. "He doesn't have any weapons. Just wants to talk. Give him that much, Riddick." He pulled back, taking a step away from her when she whispered his name, his eyes snapping up to Toombs. Toombs just stood there, watching Kat stare up at Riddick with an expression somewhere between concerned and disillusioned. "Please." His eyes snapped back to hers, and he realized the whole bar was silent and watching. He glanced around, finally brushing past her, nearly knocking her over, and grudgingly plopped down at the table, eyebrow quirked in a challenge to Toombs. Toombs cracked a nervous smile, then shot a look to Kat before turning to Riddick and taking a seat across from him. Kat let out a sigh, turning back towards the bar. "Party's over, fellas. Drink up. It's on me." With the last sentence, she glared at Riddick over her shoulder, kicking open the access gate to the bar. Once she'd served out one free one to each of her customers, she clapped James on the shoulder, leaning in to speak to him. "You can handle the bar. I'll be back in a minute."

"Kat…" he trailed off, the expression in her eyes making the words stop in his throat. She nodded, turning away from him.

"So you're out," Riddick finally said, glancing back to the bar to watch Kat struggle to fill the glasses she'd promised her patrons.

---

"Yeah," Toombs said, following his gaze. "I've got a reason to keep myself in one piece."

"And you didn't before?" Riddick's tone was condescending, but Toombs only laughed.

"I did, just didn't know it," Toombs answered, tearing his gaze from Kat to focus on Riddick. "Look, man. I don't give a shit whether there's still a price on your head. I promised her I was done."

"How'd you meet her?" He shot Riddick a glance, but the expressionless face only blinked, waiting for the response. Toombs sighed, sliding into a slouch in the bench.

"Same way you did," he said quietly. "Walked in here on a stop between runs. Never got serious until you had to raise such a fucking stink and get such a big price." Riddick chuckled. "I was here when I got the call, actually," he said, his voice a little more sobered. "It was the first time she'd ever asked me not to go. First time she even looked like she didn't want me to go."

"The creed is greed, Toombs." Toombs shot him a look.

"And you?"

"Me?" Riddick paused to glance around the bar. "I'm layin' low. Necros probably figured out I jumped fence by now." Toombs' chuckle started low in his throat, turning into a loud rumble as Riddick continued. "Hell, they probably want their fuckin' transport back. Too bad I trashed the piece of shit."

"So now what?" Riddick shrugged. "Yeah, like you'd tell me anyway." Another noncommittal shrug. Two glasses appeared on the table, and Kat leaned against the table with no expression to read. Riddick eyed her for a moment, then turned to Toombs with an amused smile.

"You drinkin' iced tea, Toombs?"

"He's on the job," Kat said. Toombs shot her a look, but she gave it right back to him. "Don't call him by that here. He's done with it," she added, turning her stare back to Riddick. His brow rose slowly, head tilting as he looked at her. "Your drinks are on me for the night." Toombs' head snapped over to her. "Behave yourself," she added with a wicked and forced smile. She turned to walk away, her eyes meeting Toombs'.

---

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Kat sighed, leaning back against the door to the apartment after closing it. She let her head rest back against the wood, closing her eyes. "You know, I'm actually surprised he didn't just fucking strangle you right then and there, in front of everyone down there. What the fuck is wrong with you?" Her eyes opened slowly, staring at the ceiling for a moment before turning on him.

"He didn't," she said flatly. "He didn't touch me, didn't yell at me, didn't look at me wrong. I got him to play nice a hell of a lot faster than you would have. Might as well have just stuck your arms in the air and told him you _wanted_ to take it up the ass from him."

"What the fuck got into you?" He was red-faced now, staring pitchforks at her, complete with cow manure dripping from the tips.

"You were making a scene in my bar," she said quietly, turning his glare back on him. His eyebrow rose. "You didn't have the balls to kick him out when he first came in and he was gonna see you eventually, so I took care of it."

"Took care of it? Took care of it how?" She huffed, shaking her head as she brushed past him into the kitchen, but he grasped her elbow, slamming her against the wall, and this time it wasn't just playing.

"I flirted with him to get him interested in me and keep his attention away from you," she hissed. "You're fucking lucky I did too. Otherwise he would have seen you the minute he plopped his burly ass down at the bar. And when the shit hit the fan, I stepped in and talked him out of ripping your nuts off and shoving them up your nose, you miserable prick." His eyes narrowed, and he shoved her backwards into the wall a little harder. Her eyes narrowed. "Every fucking person in that bar was staring at you two like you were idiots. I had to give away a shit load of drinks to divert attention so you could work out your lovers' quarrel. And you want to know what's wrong with _me_? Grow the fuck up and handle your shit like a fucking adult or kick his ass out of my bar the second he steps in. That's your _fucking_ job, Toombs." She was screaming now, just as he'd done to her. "Get your fingers out of my skin or _I'll_ rip your nuts off and shove them up your goddamn nose myself." He let her go, and before he could think she would do it, she hauled off and connected a hard right cross, smack in the cheek. He spun around, nearly whacking his head on the corner of the breakfast bar, and she sighed, shaking her head. Just as he turned around, she grabbed her trench coat and slammed the door behind her. "Don't you fucking follow me," she called from the stairwell, her voice hollow through the door.

"Fuck," he muttered, shaking his head. He slid to the floor, his head in his hands. As his cheek started to throb, he indulged in a quick tantrum before getting to his feet, grabbing his coat and heading out the door.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

Kat pulled her trench a little tighter around her shoulders, temporarily shutting out the wind and dust. Her face was still drawn down into a scowl, and her eyes darted around the deserted streets, thinking she saw something but it just turned out to be a cloud of dust. The wind wailed around the corners of the buildings, sending a shiver up her spine. Her breath left her as a gasp when an arm shot out from an alley, grasping her elbow and spinning her around, pressing her into the wall. She felt a surprisingly firm body press against her back, forcing her harder into the bricks.

"You know, I'm really fucking sick of being shoved into a wall, so if you wouldn't mind letting me go so I can kick your ass and let out some frustration, I'd really appreciate it," she snapped. A familiar chuckle rumbled in her ear, and the hairs on her skin stood up suddenly.

"I had a feeling you weren't as attached to him as you let on."

"Get the fuck off me, Riddick," she growled. To her surprise, he backed up a little, whipping her around to face him but still holding her, a little more loosely, to the wall now behind her. "What the hell do you want?"

"You've got a little too much class for him, you know that?" Riddick mused, brushing a wild hair from her forehead.

"What, and I'd do better with you? Fuck off," she retorted, narrowing her eyes up at him. "With the luck I've had with men in the past few days I'm seriously considering switching preferences," she added.

"Oh, don't do that," he said slowly. Her eyebrow rose. She figured he would have killed her by now.

"Like you'd have a fucking chance anyway," she said with a shrug. "You do know he followed me."

"Really." Riddick's smirk was nothing but cocky, and it only pissed her off even more.

"Yeah, really. I'd suggest hurrying up and telling me what the _FUCK_ you want," she nearly yelled, struggling against him again.

"Don't make me hit you to shut you up," he warned, the menace returning to the surface. She swallowed thickly. "I wasn't planning on hurting you, but I will if you make me." She snickered, shaking her head. "Who all knows Toombs is hiding out here?"

"He's not exactly hiding out," she said slowly, brows furrowing. "Why?"

"Let me rephrase," Riddick said. "Who all knows he's a fuckin' merc?"

"Used to be, you mean?" she corrected. His brow rose, jaw tightening only slightly. "Just James. My bartender."

"Might want to talk to him then," Riddick said. "Don't know why I'm telling you this," he added, removing his hands from her arms and watching her hands immediately fly to where his had been, rubbing gingerly. "He ratted you out." Her eyes snapped to his, narrowing slightly.

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"Look," Riddick sighed, shoving his hands deep into his pockets. She noticed the movement, watching from the corner of her eye while keeping them trained on his face. A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he noticed. "Smart girl," he commented quietly.

"You were saying?"

"There's a lot of people out there that don't like him too much," Riddick started.

"People like you," Kat pointed out. Riddick tilted his head to the side to grant her point.

"Long as he stays off my ass I don't give a fuck what he does. I'm not gonna lie to you and say I'm glad he made it off that rock, but I'm not dumb enough to do anything about it right now." Her brow rose, and he let his unnatural grin slip into place. "Just thought maybe you'd want to know he's gonna have old buddies dropping in, and it most likely ain't gonna be a happy reunion, if you catch my drift."

"And why do you suddenly feel the need to help him?"

"I'm not," Riddick said simply with a small shrug. "I'm helping you."

"How do I know you're not the one that ratted him out?" she pressed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"First off, you really think I have contacts in the merc clique?" No response, so he clicked his tongue and shook his head. "And anyway, why would I want to bring a whole herd of them this way and risk getting my own ass caught?"

"What makes you think it was James?" she asked slowly, scolding herself for believing him. His head snapped toward the street, and he grasped her arm, spinning her around again, her back pressed against his chest, his to the wall, and he slid a little lower, hiding both of them behind a dumpster with her trapped between his legs. His hand was clamped over her mouth, and she fought at first, until she too heard the boots nearing them. Riddick's eyes narrowed as Toombs came into view, obviously looking for her. For a second, he thought about letting her go, but he wanted to play with Toombs a little more. A moment later, Toombs swore, continuing past the alley.

"Listen to me," he whispered, waiting until she nodded her head vigorously in his hand. He lowered his head to speak into her ear, her body tensing. "I'm not gonna hurt you. Chill the fuck out and listen." Another spastic nod. "You, Me, James, and Toombs are the only ones that know right?" A small nod. "It wasn't you, it wasn't me, I seriously doubt it was Toombs. So that means either it was James or someone else knows somehow." She sighed, closing her eyes. "Problem is, he's easily got a hundred pounds on you, and I know you're not gonna tell Toombs." Her fingers wound around his wrist, trying to pull his hand away from her mouth, but he wouldn't let her. He hissed when she sunk her teeth in, wrenching his hand off her face.

"Christ. Couldn't fucking breathe, prick," she snapped quietly, glancing back toward the street. He still held her back against him, and she turned her head toward him slightly. "What, _you're_ volunteering to talk to James for me?" She felt him shrug and couldn't help but snicker. "Trust me, I can handle James."

"You mean with that gun you keep in the middle drawer behind the bar."

"No," she said flatly. "It's my problem. I'll take care of it." Suddenly, he let her go, and she fell forward, barely catching herself before grinding her nose into the pavement. She just stayed there on all fours for a moment, Riddick standing behind her. Her foot shot out, catching him in the knees and sweeping him off his feet. Big guys fell hard, and Riddick was no exception. She scrambled to her feet, taking off at a full out sprint. Her boots thundered down the pavement back toward the bar, and she forced them to move faster as another pair followed. Tears started streaming down her face, partly because of the fear and partly because of the sudden physical exertion. He tackled her from behind, his arms fastening around her waist and sending them both tumbling into a panting heap. Her eyes were scrunched shut to keep out the dust they'd kicked up, and she felt him straddle her hips, clutching her face in his hands. Blindly, she punched at him, smacking at his arms and trying to find his face so she could beat on him.

"Kat, look at me." The voice finally cut through her desperate whimpers, and her eyes popped open, flailing arms halting mid-strike. "What the hell happened to you?" Desperately, she wrapped her arms around his neck, clutching to him tightly. He stood slowly, pulling her up with him. "Talk to me."

"Riddick…" she stammered. "Alley. Said James ratted us out."

"What?!"

"Mercs coming for you," she whispered, trembling against him. "It was James, Toombs. We have to do something." He forced her away from him, holding her at arms' length by her upper arms, and she winced, his fingers digging into the same spots Riddick's fingers had left bruises. She tried to wriggle her arms free, but his hold was too strong.

"Riddick told you that?" She nodded, the tears springing free again. "And you believe him?"

"I don't know," she whispered, her lip trembling.

"Did he hurt you?"

"Couple of bruises, but I think he was just trying to keep me quiet and make me listen," she said, starting to calm down again. "Let go," she added weakly, attempting to pull her arms from his hands. Her eyes shifted over his shoulder, and she nodded. He spun around, and she stepped to his side, brow quirked.

"Amusing displays of affection," Riddick drawled, a smirk twisting his lips.

"Get the fuck away from us," Toombs growled, reaching for the pistol he'd tucked into the back waistband of his pants, but he felt Kat slide it out, holding it loosely at her side. He glanced at her quickly, but turned his attention back to the threat standing before them.

"You can't stick around, you realize that," Riddick stated, brushing dust from his shoulder. "And you can't leave James alive."

"How do you know all this shit?" Toombs demanded, his hand sliding down Kat's arm toward the gun, but she took a step sideways out of his reach.

"Observation," he said with a shrug. "Short version. James has a thing for Kat. Probably since the day he found out you were dead. You turn up alive and set up shop with her, he gets pissed and wants revenge." Kat's eyes narrowed.

"And you give a shit because…?" she asked

"Well," he said slowly, that smirk returning as his eyes shifted to hers. "I can't stay here now, and if I let you all stay, I can't steal you from him," he said, nodding toward Toombs.

"Enough," Kat snapped. "We don't need you Riddick. He's a big enough liability," she said, nodding her head toward Toombs, who took a breath to interject, but her glare silenced him. "I've already lost my bar and the life I've built here. I don't need a tag along." Riddick held up his hands, taking a step back.

"Fine," he said slowly. "You're on your own." Both Kat and Toombs watched as he turned and walked away, disappearing in the shadows. She turned back to Toombs and stared at him for a moment, shaking her head. He sighed, watching her for a moment before following back to the apartment.

---

"So what's the plan?" he asked quietly, lowering himself to the couch with a quiet groan. She didn't pause, walking straight from the front door into the bedroom, rifling through her closet. He shook his head, standing and leaning against the doorframe.

"I don't know," she muttered, shaking her head. "We can't stay here though, that's for sure." She tossed a duffle bag onto the bed and started ripping her clothes from their hangers, tossing them in a pile next to the bag. "And we can't wait. The longer we stay, the more pissed off I'll get at James for this. And the more I'll think Riddick's right about not being able to leave him alive."

"Kat…"

"I think we should empty the safe, trash the place, and get the fuck out of here. Dump your ship off somewhere and get another one. Fuck trading it. They'll still be able to track us. Head someplace they won't look for us. Lupus Three, maybe."

"We can't go near the Lupus system, Kat. They'll recognize me no matter what." She sighed, turning from the closet to start folding her clothes. He reached out, settling a hand between her shoulder blades, but she didn't stop packing. "We need to come up with something that'll work."

"We don't have the fucking time," she snapped, pausing only long enough to glower up at him. "Get your shit together. We'll figure something out once we're off planet." He nodded, going to the bureau where he kept the few things he'd collected since getting here. She left the room, and he heard the door open and shut as she went down to clean out the safe. When she came back, he'd started collecting their stuff from the bathroom, finding a backpack in her closet to put it in. She started going through the stuff on her desk, shredding papers and putting others into a manila envelope.

"What about your computer?" he asked quietly, dropping the backpack next to the duffel at the front door.

"I'm burning it," she responded, pulling a red disk from a hidden compartment and holding it between her teeth as she collected the other disks, dropping them into the envelope as well. He watched her, quickly gathering what she had to keep and trashing the rest before sliding the red disk into the drive and pulling up a program. His eyebrow rose as whatever was on that disk took effect, glitches appearing on the screen. She stood once she was sure it had worked and dropped the envelope into another duffel, grabbing a few things from the kitchen. Smoke started streaming from the computer.

"What was that?"

"Electronic bomb," she answered, tossing a box of MREs to him. "Burns out the whole system. Can't be restored without the key, which I have. Program's unique to my computer, so I'm safe." He nodded slowly, somewhat surprised to learn this about her. He'd had no idea she knew anything more about computers than basic stuff. Could come in handy, maybe. She pulled a chair out from the breakfast bar and sat it in the middle of the kitchen. "Go take a shower really quick," she said quickly.

"What?" he asked slowly. She sighed.

"You don't know anything about disappearing, do you?" His eyebrow rose. "You need a hair cut and so do I. We don't have enough time for this shit. I'll get the dye on mine while you're getting wet. It'll give it time to develop while I cut your hair, and you can shave while I'm rinsing and cutting mine." He shrugged, disappearing into the bathroom. She rubbed her forehead slowly, choking back the memories. With a shake of the head, she pushed the thoughts away and dug under the sink cabinet, pulling a bottle of hair dye out. The water was running when she entered the bathroom, quickly mixing the dye and smearing it all over her head.

"Shit, that stinks," he muttered from the shower. She chuckled, wiping the water the fumes prompted from her eyes.

"Hurry up," was all she said. He threw the curtain back, and she handed him a towel, grabbing the scissors and a comb as she left. She cut as quickly as she could while still keeping it decent looking, her scalp starting to tingle. He felt dumb just sitting there when time was so vital, but she'd assumed control and he'd let her call the shots for now. The clippers turned on with a quiet buzz, his curls disappearing into a medium-length buzz. She ran her fingers over his head a few times, smiling at the prickling feeling before patting him on the shoulder and going back to the bathroom.

He watched with interest as she bent over, rinsing the goo from her hair, ass sticking up in the air as she leaned over the side of the tub. The water ran purple, and he hoped like hell that wasn't the color she'd chosen. Once the water cleared, she squeezed the excess out and reached for him, opening and closing her hand until he gave her a towel. She rubbed her hair nearly dry and stood at the mirror, cutting her hair from just below her shoulder blades to ear length, leaving a chunk at the front on each side about an inch longer. In a bag, she gathered all the hair on the floor, both hers and his, the dye bottle, clippers, anything they'd used for their appearance changes. After tying it shut, she dropped it next to their bags at the door.

"How far to the hangar?" she asked, reaching for her trench.

"Probably a half hour's walk." A quick nod, and she grabbed his wrist, walking to the bedroom and stepping into the closet. "What are you –?" She pushed aside a hidden doorway and handed him several guns.

"Nice," he commented quietly, checking out the array of weapons she had hidden.

"I can't take everything, unfortunately," she said quietly, gathering a small collection and putting them into a black leather pack. She tucked a snub nosed pistol into her boot, a knife in the other, and a semiautomatic pistol into the back of her pants, pulling her shirt down over it. Her trench had shoulder holsters built in, so she laid out two matching semiauto pistols on the bed next to her coat. "Pick out what you can carry that you know how to use well," she directed, shrugging her trench onto her shoulders. He nodded, and she secured the pistols into her holsters before sliding the pack on and adjusting the straps. "We'll figure everything out once we're in the air. I just want to get out of here before people start waking up." He nodded, following her to the door. They both carried a pack and a duffel, and she led the way down the stairs.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Anything?" Toombs asked gruffly, watching Kat punch a few keys on the console and shake her head, standing. She ducked back out into the main cabin, sliding into one of the chairs along the walls of the ship, rubbing her eyes. He sighed, plotting a course and setting the autopilot before joining her on the main deck, taking the seat across from her. It was a small undercutter, much like the one Riddick had stolen from him though with less room and larger engines.

"What's the closest system?" she asked quietly, removing her weapons from their hiding places and checking them over. It had been a while since she'd had to bother with them, even though she'd spent every Sunday night cleaning and tuning them up. He watched her fiddle with her guns for a moment before responding. "You got enough fuel to get to the Solar System?"

"Are you crazy?" he asked, the exhaustion setting in. He leaned back in his chair, propping his head on a fist. She glanced up at him, shrugging a little before turning back to her weapons.

"Here's what I'm thinking," she started. "There's supposedly an abandoned bubble on Earth's moon. They built it when the nuclear wars started and evacuated as many people as they could. If we can get the pressurizer working again we can hide out there for a while."

"Couple problems," Toombs sighed, shaking his head. "First off, it's probably still monitored regularly. Any changes to it and they'll know and be all over it. Mercs'll pick it up on the scanner and know it's us. Check it out just to make sure, anyway." She sighed, falling back into her chair. "Second, I don't have the gear if it's not pressurized."

"Fuck," she muttered, shaking her head.

"Any other ideas or are you gonna let me take over?" he asked gently, leaning his elbows on his knees. Her eyes met his, brow arching slowly. "I say we head out to the Nubis system." She snickered, shaking her head. "Switch up transports, and just hop around for a while."

"And what are we going to do for money, then?" she asked quietly, standing to strap her guns to the gun rack. She stuck her hand out, and he stood slowly, handing her his weapons one by one.

"I've got some accounts I can empty. Should last a little while. We can figure something out." She sighed, walking to the back of the cabin and rummaging through one of the duffels. He caught the MRE she threw him and ripped it open, returning to the pilot's chair. She settled back into her seat, choking down the goo in the packet as quickly as she could.

"You realize we're fucked," she said quietly. He glanced over his shoulder at her, then shook his head, turning back to the window.

"Ion drive kicking in," he announced. The ship shuddered, but neither really noticed. She continued staring at the MRE packet, even after she'd emptied it, as he settled into a chair and strapped in. "Get some sleep."

"You don't know who I am, do you?" she asked quietly, sighing as he glanced up at her. She let the question hang in the air, strapping into her chair and shifting into as comfortable position as she could find.

"What are you talking about?"

"See, I always thought you would have been a careful guy, Toombs," she continued cryptically. "I figured you'd eventually run my picture through the system, but you never did." She paused, cocking her head at him. "Did you?" More statement than question. His brow rose.

"You're in the system."

"Not under Katrina Marshal, no. But my picture is." He blinked quickly. "But the thing is, you can't run me now. You log in and they'll track you in seconds."

"That's why you're telling me this now, huh? You feel safe that I can't do anything about it."

"I'm telling you this now because I want you to trust that I know what I'm doing, that's all," she said defeatedly. "I never would have done it otherwise." She heaved a sigh, closing her eyes. "Taylor West," she said quietly. His eyes widened, mouth falling open slightly.

"_You're_ Taylor West?" She lifted her head, eyes meeting his as she tucked her short black hair behind her ears. "I thought Taylor West was at Ursa Luna," Toombs said slowly, narrowing his eyes at her.

"System says she is," Kat said with a small shrug. "Truth be told, she's actually just someone who looked too much like me and was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Too convenient to do anything about it at the time."

"You let an innocent woman go to prison for you."

"She wasn't exactly innocent," Kat snapped. "And anyway, that's not important right now. Taylor West is in prison, and Katrina Marshal has a shit load of problems to deal with right now. It doesn't matter now. All that matters is keeping both of us alive until this blows over." His eyebrow rose slowly. "Aren't you out of it anyway?"

"Yeah," he said slowly, "I am."

"So what, are you going to turn me in? Got too much of a fucking conscience to help a convict survive? If I remember correctly, I've gotten you out of some shit a couple of times now. You owe me."

"I don't owe you shit," he spat. She glared at him, and he sighed. "A merc and a con," he said finally, chuckling a little. "Classic."

"An ex-merc and a rehabilitated con," she corrected. "I've lived straight for nine years," she said quietly.

"Is that right?" She unbuckled her harness, and he followed suit, quickly getting to his feet. She shot an amused smile at him, shaking her head a little as she dug through a duffel bag, pulling out a can of soda. He watched her pop it open and take a long swallow, his eyes lingering on her as she dug through the bag again and held one out to him. "I guess I really didn't want to know all this," he said after a moment. She snickered, dropping back into her seat. Her eyes followed his hand as he reached under his seat, producing a pack of cigarettes.

"Yes you did," she said quietly. "You needed to know that I know what I'm doing with this whole disappearing thing. Had to do it every few months for a good three years until shit finally settled down and I got the chance to start over in New Harlem. Figured it was a rough enough town they wouldn't bother looking for me there" He nodded slowly, handing her a cigarette and lighting it for her. They sat there in silence for a while, both smoking and avoiding each other's eyes. "There _is_ another option," she finally said softly.

"What?"

"I drop you off at Lupus Five and go on my way." He stared at her for a moment, brows furled. "You don't need this. Just go back. I can take care of myself."

"I'm not gonna do that, Kat," he said quietly.

"Why?"

"Because if I go back and something happens, they'll come to me to track you down." Her eyes held his, expressionless. "I don't know if I could turn it down."

"Like I said, I can take care of myself."

"Why are we even having this conversation?" he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"You still have a chance. Either you go back to the guild or you end up on the other end with a price on your head."

"Look," he sighed, "you said it yourself. Taylor West is in prison. We get situated and we'll be fine." She shook her head, tearing her gaze from his.

"You're sure you want to do this." The leather of his chair creaked as he moved, sliding to crouch in front of her. He reached out, turning her head back to him. Her eyes reflected her apprehension, and she looked away quickly. His lips met hers for a brief moment, his fingers threading through her freshly cut hair.

"You will always be Katrina Marshal to me," he said quietly. "Normally I wouldn't give two shits about keeping a promise to a con, but this is different."

"Toombs, you can't –" He cut her off with another kiss, shaking his head as he pulled away.

"You're right, I can't." Her brows furled in confusion. "I can't go back. I promised you I wouldn't and I'm not going to." He pulled her from her chair into his lap to sit on his thighs, her arms wrapping tightly around his shoulders. "Now's as good a time as any to change careers, right?" She let out a light chuckle, running her hand over his head.

"You're sure." He nodded, dropping a kiss on her shoulder. "Why are you doing this?"

"Because I don't know what I'd do if something happened to you, and I couldn't take the chance of something happening to me. I died on you once." She sighed, shaking her head. "I won't let it happen again."

"It's more likely now than it was before," she said with a small laugh.

"I don't know about that," he said quietly. "Spending my time tracking down convicts who want to get the fuck away from me or staying with one who doesn't mind my company." Her hold tightened on him for a moment, and she stood, digging through another bag.

"I've got some contacts on Kygon 3," she said, holding a stack of papers out. "I might be able to get us wired for new ids, completely legit." She paused, licking her lips. "Well, they check out as being legit." He glanced down at her before thumbing through the documents. "Look, I need you to trust me on this okay? And I need to be able to trust you." He nodded. "They'll hook us up with the best they can find, biometrics, DNA, photos, background, everything. Just fill out the paperwork with what you want your new name to be and everything you remember about your past so it can be deleted. The more you disclose, the more thorough the transition." She paused uncertainly. "Toombs, you have to trust me." He looked up at her quickly, setting the papers on a seat. "If you really want to do this, we have to do some stuff that's not exactly legal. It won't come back on us, but if you're not willing to take the chance, tell me now so I can figure something out."

"Kat, I'm with you all the way," he said slowly.

"Once this starts I can't stop it," she warned. He nodded, closing the distance between them and taking her hands in his.

"You have to trust me too." She pulled her hands away, wrapping her arms around his waist. A slight chuckle rumbled in his chest, and she looked up at him. "Even with your money." She smiled, looping a hand around his neck to pull his face down to hers, kissing him with all she had. He lifted her off the ground, slowly lowering to his knees and pushing her down onto her back under him.

---

Kat glanced at Toombs out of the corner of her eye as he approached the docking bay. All their stuff was packed, the entire ship cleaned of fingerprints, both of them now wearing gloves. As soon as the ship stopped, they grabbed up the bags and left the ship, the keys sitting enticingly on the console, in plain view from the windshield. It would probably be stolen within the next few days, as they were hoping.

They walked into town quickly, checking in to a dumpy motel under one of Kat's many documented aliases. She was looking forward to getting rid of every one of them for good, but it couldn't happen yet. Not for a while. As she walked through the room, memorizing every detail, Toombs relaxed onto the bed, letting out a tired sigh.

"I have to go into town and get a few things," she said quietly. He sat up quickly, the bed groaning in protest. "I'll be back in a couple hours."

"Kat—"

"Trust me," she said quickly, looking at him over her shoulder as she slid a pistol into the back of her pants. He nodded slowly, and she left, the door clicking quietly behind her.

As always, she went out the back door, which led out into an alley. She shoved her hands in her pockets, boots thudding quietly down the pavement. After stopping in a few electronics stores, never buying more than three things at any one place, she ducked into a little corner market and bought something easy to put together for dinner. She didn't waste any time getting back to the hotel, knocking on the door quietly. He pulled it open, glancing out into the hallway as she slipped past him into the room, closing it and locking it behind her, the do not disturb sign hanging from the outside handle.

He stood at the foot of the bed as she dug through her bags, hands on his hips, still in his wifebeater and jeans, though his boots were tossed in a corner. She set a new laptop computer on the bedside table, plugging it in to charge before going to her other bags. His eyebrow rose as she laid out a communications scanner, keycard reader, and other little devices. She nodded to a brown paper bag she'd set on the dresser, and he snatched it up, smiling as he removed two sandwiches and two bottles of orange juice.

"I went ahead and closed out all of my accounts," she said quietly. "Told them I decided to join up with a team of settlers heading out to a new colony." He nodded slowly, cracking open his juice and taking a long swig. "Made small talk. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary as far as I could tell."

"How long do you plan on staying here?" She glanced up at him before powering on her computer.

"I have to make some modifications to this bad boy," she said, tapping on the computer's lid. "Probably take a few days." She took the sandwich he held out to her, smiling slightly as he opened the other bottle of juice and set it next to her. He watched her work as she ate, the room silent except for the clicking of her keyboard. A few hours later, just as he was starting to doze, she snapped the computer shut and rubbed her eyes with a sigh.

"Gonna wear yourself out," he warned. She shrugged, sliding down the headboard to plop her head on the pillows. He shifted on his side next to her.

"God damn James," she whispered, scrunching her eyes shut and shaking her head. He chuckled quietly, sliding a hand over her belly and around her side to pull her across the bed against him. She turned toward him, burying her face in his chest as her arms went around him. "I could never have handled that place by myself," she continued. "I thought I could trust him."

"And you could until I showed up." She pulled away a little to look at him, one brow twitching downward.

"This isn't your fault," she insisted quietly. He took a breath to argue, but she shook her head, settling her finger over his lips. She smiled, replacing her finger with her lips in a slow, gentle kiss before settling against him with a heavy sigh. "Night, Toombs." He mumbled a response, giving her a little squeeze before the room fell silent for the night.

---

Toombs woke suddenly, sitting up in bed with a strangled gasp. His brows furrowed as his eyes darted out of the room, focusing on the one duffel and backpack still lying in the floor. He glanced around again, rising from the bed as he noticed a sheet of paper in the floor in front of the door.

"Fuck," he muttered, scanning the note.

_Toombs – I can't let you make this mistake. Go back to the guild and stay safe. I'll be fine on my own. Maybe we'll meet again some time, hopefully not work-related. Please don't be mad. I'm not doing this because I don't trust you. I'm doing this because I love you too much to let you fuck up like this. You don't want my life now. Don't track me down. If I really need you, I'll find you. – Kat. _

He crumpled the note in a hand, his jaw clenched and nostrils flaring. With a frustrated grunt, he snatched up the duffel and pack she'd left him, slamming the door behind him. After stopping at the front desk and learning she'd already paid for another night, he left the hotel, the keycard sitting on the counter and the concierge staring at him in confusion. With every step back to the hangar, he cursed the universe. He came to a halt on the tarmac, breathing a sigh of relief. The skiff was still there, keys still sitting on the console. He heaved a sigh, shaking his head and marched toward it, yanking the door open and throwing the bags in with all he had left. A moment later, he had clearance to take off and was on his way back to New Harlem.

---

Kat sighed, rubbing her forehead. She was perched in the pilot's chair of a ship she'd just bought off the lot. It needed work, but it would do for now. Nothing special – just a tiny cruiser with one bunk, a small shower, and several lockers. It hadn't been cheap though, not with the communications system and navigational equipment. With just a few hours of manual labor planetside, she'd be good to go for a while. It was low on fuel usage, and once she got done altering the identification system, no one would ever suspect it was her, and she'd be nearly impossible to trace.

A sad smile touched her lips. His arm had stayed around her the whole night, and when she'd moved to get up, he'd tightened his grasp on her, mumbling in his sleep. She'd let out a quiet chuckle, watching his eyes open blearily, and she'd shushed him, telling her she was just going to the bathroom. It'd hurt to leave him like that. Packing everything up and stealing away in the middle of the night. She shook her head. It had to be done. There was no way she was going to let him come along and risk everything he'd tried to build for himself, which wasn't much, but enough to make her feel guilty about dragging him down with her.

After checking her course for the third time in the past five minutes, she stood and went back into the main cabin. She settled onto her bunk, returning to working on her new laptop. With her old programs on disk and several more tricks up her sleeve, she'd be ready for anything. She'd already zapped off a message to her identity contact, uploading and sending her paperwork and support materials. The rendezvous was in a few days, and she'd be hard-pressed to make it, but she'd do what she had to. Her computer would be ready by the time she went to bed tomorrow, and then she'd feel better about this.

With a heavy sigh, she pulled up a picture of him, running her fingers down the screen. She'd downloaded it on the sly from the mercenary guild, making sure to dust her tracks before logging out of the system. She set the picture to her desktop, a reminder that she was doing all this for him. Sure, she'd get something out of it as well, but he didn't need her. Maybe if James hadn't fucked her over things would be different, but it didn't happen that way. She closed the computer and set it gently on the floor, curling up on her bed to sleep for a while.

---

Toombs burst into the watchtower, scowling as he hoofed it up the steps, throwing the door to the control room open. Three faces peered back at him with a mixture of interest and annoyance. His eyebrow rose.

"I need the call signs, identification numbers, and clearance information on any ships that have left this port in the past three days." One of the men stood slowly, crossing his arms over his chest.

"That's confidential information." Toombs' unhappy-face grin slid onto his lips, and he reached into his pocket for his ID card.

"Mercenary 25694," he said stiffly. "Get it for me."

"You're Toombs?"

" S'right," he said, turning his head slowly toward the one who'd asked. "Lemme guess. I'm dead, right?" The man nodded slowly. "Misinformation. Run me through the fuckin' biometrics database if you want to, but work on getting me that information while you're at it." After verification, he left the control room, boots pounding quickly down the steps, documents in hand. His engines had barely cooled down before he took off again, keeping them at full throttle as he worked on finding out which ship was the one he wanted. After an hour, he had it narrowed down to three. With the corresponding documents, he quickly researched the ships and any information he could find. Three hours later, he had it down to two, and had a pretty good idea which one was his bogey. He set his course, stuffing the papers into a locker and falling into a chair in the main cabin with a heavy sigh.

She'd left him. In the middle of the night, while he was still sleeping, she'd just snuck out and left him. He shook his head, rubbing a hand over his face. This was completely fucked. Another heavy sigh and he stood, deciding the only way he'd be able to make it the whole way without going on a major rampage would be in cryo. Her face flashed in his mind before he knocked out, the cryo drugs taking effect.

---

Toombs waited in an alley until he saw his mark emerge from a back door, glancing around before going the other direction. He knew he'd been seen, and he knew what the next few minutes would entail. He just hoped his guts could take the abuse. With a shaky breath, he followed, not surprised when he turned a corner and found himself on the sharp end of a blade.

"Thought you didn't need my help."

"I never said that," Toombs stammered, managing a small chuckle. Riddick's eyebrow rose slowly, head tilting to the side just a bit, but the blade didn't move. "Look, guy, I do need your help." Slowly, Riddick pulled the knife away from Toombs' throat, satisfied that he'd left a thin line of blood. "Kat's gone off on her own," he said quickly.

"She's a big girl. She can take care of herself," Riddick growled, turning to leave. Toombs quickly followed.

"I don't give a shit whether or not she can take care of herself. She's going to Kygon 3 to get her papers changed." Riddick's steps slowed slightly, his eyes meeting Toombs. "I know who, and it's not good. If she pulls it off I'll never find her." Riddick stopped walking, turning to Toombs slowly.

"Did it ever occur to you that she might not _want_ you to find her?" he asked slowly, a hint of amusement in his voice. Toombs sent him a look, holding a crumply piece of paper out to him. Riddick's brow rose slowly, his eyes never leaving Toombs' face as he took the paper from him. Toombs shoved his hands in his pockets as Riddick read the note, sighing heavily. "How did you find me?"

"Had to pull my ID, but I talked to the guys at the control room and got the flight info for any ships that left between the last time I saw you and yesterday," he said slowly. "Narrowed it down after a while." Riddick nodded slowly, nodding toward the street.

"We can't talk here," he said quietly. Toombs nodded, following Riddick out onto the street, down another few streets, and into a dilapidated warehouse. Riddick led him up to the top floor and into what seemed to be an old office, settling in a chair behind a dusty desk. "What makes you think I can help you?"

"You know the systems like the back of your hand," Toombs said quietly. "I only know the most common places well. Lupus, Helion, you know." He paused to pace the room and run a hand over his head. "And I don't know enough about this guy to know how to do this. You're good at tracking people when you want to be." He stopped, eyeing Riddick warily. "Do you have any idea how much it pisses me off to have to tell you all this shit?"

"Go on," Riddick said with a grin.

"Anyway, I figure you're probably the best person to go to." Riddick's eyebrow rose. "To try to find her," Toombs clarified. Riddick took a slow breath, leaning back in his chair. He let it out in a slow sigh.

"What's in it for me?"

"The satisfaction of finding out I don't give a shit about the pay day on your head and respect you enough to let you call the shots. I'm willing to trust you if you'll help," Toombs said slowly.

"You'll trust me," Riddick repeated with an evil chuckle. "This is just too fuckin' humorous." Toombs sighed, rubbing his eyes. "A merc asking a convict for help."

"I'm not a fucking merc anymore!" Toombs yelled, surprising both himself and Riddick with the force of his voice. An uneasy silence settled over them until Toombs cleared his throat and broke eye contact. "I…" he stopped, shaking his head with a sigh.

"You what?"

"I love her, Riddick," he said quietly. "I don't expect you to understand that, or even give a flying fuck about it." He set his jaw for a moment, his blue eyes meeting silver again. "I love her too much to let her take this chance by herself." Riddick rose from the chair slowly.

"So you're willing to jump into hell to burn with her then, is that it?" Toombs blinked quickly. "Kygon 3 isn't the Lupus system. Fuck, it's not even the Helion system with the fucking Necros setting up shop." Toombs sighed, shaking his head and falling into the chair behind him. "If you don't get to her _before_ she gets there, you might as well just shoot her yourself." His eyes darted up to Riddick's, narrowing slightly.

"I have to take that chance, Riddick," Toombs insisted quietly. Riddick sighed, shaking his head as he turned his back on Toombs, sitting on the corner of the desk. A long silence ensued, and Toombs thought seriously about leaving quietly.

"You think I don't know anything about love," Riddick said quietly, his voice carrying an edge to it Toombs hadn't heard before. "Kyra was the closest to that I ever knew, and she wound up dead because of it." Toombs' brow furrowed, and Riddick stood, turning back to him slowly. "You do exactly as I say and don't make the mistake of questioning me." Toombs nodded, standing slowly. "Where were you when she left?"

"Nubia Alpha." Riddick nodded.

"If she takes a straight course, she'll still have to stop for fuel. That'll give me time to track her down. It's a starting point, but I'm not making any guarantees, got it?" Toombs nodded quickly. Riddick stepped forward, glaring down at the former merc with obvious disdain. "You fuck me over, merc, and I'll kill you." He paused for effect. "Very, very slowly."

"Quit wasting time and let's get this over with," Toombs ground out, narrowing his eyes up at the taller, bulkier man. Riddick let out a chortle and nodded. Toombs sighed, following him out of the building.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

On the outside, Toombs was checking starmaps and course charts. On the inside, he was fuming. Here he was, arguably the best merc in the entire charted universe, judging solely on the fact that he'd managed to get Riddick to a prison and keep himself in one piece, and he'd gone back to the piece of shit for help. He heaved a sigh, rubbing his forehead. Riddick dropped another stack of departure and arrival logs he'd printed from the database he'd hacked into, and Toombs closed his eyes, leaning back in his chair.

"This is fucked," he muttered, half to himself and half to the Fates. Riddick chuckled a little.

"You have no idea what she picked up, huh?" He shook his head.

"And I don't know when she left, so I have no idea where to start." Again, Riddick laughed quietly, reaching out to shuffle through the printouts he'd just slapped on the table. Toombs watched as he flipped through a couple pages, separating them into several piles.

"Start with these," Riddick said, tapping on a shorter stack. Toombs' eyebrow rose, and he reached out slowly. "All of 'em chart toward the Y90 system, between New Harlem and Kygon. Best place to stop for fuel. First stack departed between midnight and three a.m. Small cruisers and undercutters, relatively cheap, with only one crewmember." Toombs nodded. "Next stack is the same group, three a.m. to six a.m. The next is six a.m. to eight thirty, when you said you got to the hangar."

"What about other ships? Bigger. More than one crewmember listed?" Toombs asked slowly.

"I said start with those," Riddick repeated, standing. Toombs grumbled to himself, shifting in his seat as he started looking through the sheets, sorting them further into more and less likely candidates. An hour later, he started on the second pile, his eyes already strained. A few sheets in, he narrowed his eyes, flicking the paper as he stood.

"Riddick," he said slowly. The pilot's chair creaked as Riddick turned, scowl in place. "I think I found it." Riddick tossed him a look of strained tolerance as he stood, slowly reaching for the sheet Toombs held out to him.

"Season of the Sun? Why would she name her ship _that?_" Riddick asked quietly.

"Winters almost drove the bar under every year. They're long and brutal. People hardly go outside to let their dogs take a shit," Toombs explained. "They made their money in the summer, when it was warm. Saved it to scrape by during the cold season."

"Too obvious," Riddick said, shaking his head. "Any others?"

"Riddick…"

"We'll check it out," Riddick interjected quickly. "But you're not stopping with this one. You're gonna look at every fucking ship that left that port and we're going to narrow it down one by one. Go by name, ship type, crew size first. Then we'll do some digging." Toombs nodded, barely containing the fit he desperately wanted to throw. He always got stuck with the shitty jobs, it seemed. The cons who ran the fastest and took the most erratic and unpredictable routes. Never an easy one. Riddick turned back to the console, a small smile playing on his face. He'd already found her ship. Shortly after they'd taken off, he'd hacked into the penal database and looked up every alias she had ever used. Unfortunately for her, when she used one she was required to back it up with papers, and that always left a trail. He had to give it to Toombs. The Season of the Sun would probably have been the last ship he'd picked out for her. His brows furrowed as he ran a quick scan for her ship, breaking in a back door to her system and browsing around. After a few moments, he let out a low whistle. "What're you doin' with all that shit?" he whispered to himself. A light smirk touched his lips and he shook his head. A quick glance over his shoulder confirmed Toombs was still sifting through the port departures, and he sighed, his chair creaking again as he stood. Toombs glanced up, eyebrow rising slowly. "Okay, look," Riddick said, leaning against the wall behind him, crossing his arms over his chest. "She's using an old alias."

"You're shittin' me." Riddick shook his head. "Why would she be that dumb?"

"Well, she's probably got the papers to back it up, and it's a hell of a lot easier to travel that way. Don't have to worry about hiding your ship and fucking with security." Toombs nodded slowly. "She's on her way out to Trafalgar 2, looks like. Good move, I'd say."

"What do you mean?"

"Not a lot of law head out that way, but it's still close enough to the Kygon system to be practical." Riddick slid into one of the seats in the main cabin. "Here's the plan. We're gonna stop off at Y90-A and refuel. Starjump to the Z Sector and beat her to Trafalgar 2. Meet her at the port and drag her ass back to wherever the fuck you want to go. After that, you're on your own."

"You think it'll work?"

"We'll see, won't we?" Riddick said, cocking his head to the side. Toombs' eyes averted his, and he took a breath like he was going to say something, but let it out as a sigh instead. "She's not going to go easily, Toombs."

"I know that."

"And she's gonna try to talk you into going with her to get papers changed."

"I know," Toombs repeated with a small nod.

"You know what's involved in that?"

"A lot of shit I don't want to deal with. She already told me about it." Riddick's eyebrow rose.

"So she's done it." Toombs nodded slowly, dropping the stack of papers in his lap to the floor, a few skittering around. "Talk."

"You heard of Taylor West?" The rumble of laughter could only mean Riddick did, and Toombs glared at him.

"And you're still on her tail," Riddick snickered, shaking his head. "She must give one hell of a blow job."

"You watch your fuckin' mouth," Toombs spat, but the threat was half-hearted. He knew he'd never win, and in any case, he needed Riddick on his side at this point.

"Word of warning," Riddick said, suddenly serious again. "She's got a shit ton of communications equipment, navigational equipment, and proximity sensors. If we get within a hundred clicks of her, she'll know. I couldn't get into her weapons log to see what she's got, but I'm willing to bet it's something." Toombs was oddly quiet for most of the conversation, and Riddick's brows furled. "You got something you want to tell me?" That received a quick, nervous glance, and a heavy sigh. Toombs leaned back in his chair, sliding to a slouch.

"I don't know what the fuck I'm doing," he admitted quietly. "I barely know her and I'm out in the middle of nowhere trying to track her down." Riddick turned his head to stare out the front window. "I'm traveling with a convict, who probably has the biggest bounty on his head right now, just to find her, and I gave up my career because she wanted me to."

"You gave up your career because you're getting to old to be efficient," Riddick said quietly. "She was just a convenient excuse." Toombs' eyes narrowed over at Riddick, but he was still staring out the window. After trying to think of some smartass reply and failing miserably, he let the issue drop with a weighty sigh.

---

Kat stared at the distant stars as her ship spiraled through space. She'd found herself in a trance, the swirling specks of light creating a kaleidoscope effect as she teetered between sleep and awareness, catching her head lolling with a sudden jerk to keep it poised atop her shoulders. It was one of the things she never understood about herself – the unwillingness to let herself sleep when it was convenient. She knew that once she got to the Trafalgar system she wouldn't sleep again until this deal was over. Just as she gave herself permission to go, the alarms went off as a ship appeared out of nowhere about 500 meters from her right wing and heading right for her.

"Shit!" she gasped, instantly awake. As she waited for the autopilot to shut off, she hooked in her headset and patched a connection to the vessel. "What the fuck is wrong with you?" she snapped, steering her ship away at a sharp angle, the joysticks shaking and shuddering with the force of the turn.

"Unpredicted starjump, ma'am," came the crackly reply. Her eyes narrowed. That voice sounded too familiar. "My sincerest apologies."

"Next time try charting and sweeping before you hit the fucking button," she hissed, cutting the connection as she changed courses, deciding to head to a different system to refuel. A deep scowl marked her features as she shook her head, resetting the autopilot with the lowest engine speed she had before leaving the cockpit to figure out where to go instead.

It had taken her three extra days to get to Y90-A for fuel, and she'd definitely be pressed now to make the deadline on Kygon 3. Calling to delay the appointment wasn't an option. If she didn't make it, not only would she have Toombs, most likely a few mercs still convinced she wasn't actually in prison, and maybe even Riddick wanting a piece trying to track her down, she'd have nearly a whole planet of hardcore convicts on her tail. And they didn't get more money if they took her alive. They'd get more money the more slowly she died. A quick shudder ran over her, and she headed back to the ship, tucking her change from refueling back in her pocket.

Her ship's hatch lowered at the press of a button on a remote in her pocket, which, by the way, was hooked up to a lot more than just the hatch. As she walked up the ramp and reached out to hit the switch to close up behind her, the hairs on the back of her neck stood on end, and she paused, her hand hovering over the dial. A movement caught her attention from the corner of her eye and her gun was drawn in a flash, following the trail a little flying bug made as it worked its way toward the opening of the hatch. A small smile played on her lips, and she lowered the gun, heaving a sigh.

"Fuckin' losin' it," she mumbled, shaking her head as she turned the dial, hydraulics groaning as the ramp rose, shutting the hatch with an airlock hiss and a click. She turned back to head up to the cockpit and stopped in her tracks, a very large man wearing all black, including his facemask, stepping out of the shadows. Her arms rose slowly, the gun dangling from her index finger by the trigger guard, swinging back and forth slowly.

"You're late," came a raspy voice. Her brows furrowed. "Drop the gun." Her pistol hit the deck with a clatter, and she hoped like hell the chrome didn't get scratched in the process. It just had to be her favorite one.

"I've got two more days," she insisted slowly, taking a step back as he took one forward.

"You can't get there in two days," he pressed, taking another step as she did the same. Three more and she'd be against the wall with nowhere to go.

"And you're not willing to give me the chance to prove you wrong," she assumed, dropping her arms to her sides. "Lemme guess," she continued, pausing to lick her lips. "I bet Jesse's going through my logs right now, trying to find out where I've been and what I've got stashed." No response. "And you've got at least one more guy with you, just to make sure I behave myself, right?" Still no response. She sighed, backing up to the wall and sliding to the ground, pulling her knees to her chest.

"I have orders, Taylor," the man said.

"Cut the shit, Jackson," she snapped. "Give me the chance to at least try and if I don't make it, kill me then. If I do, well…" she trailed off, shaking her head. Her arms were wound around her legs, hiding her left hand from his view as she struggled to find the remote in her pocket. "You'll get home to your girlfriends and have a good ol' time and I'll get my papers and my life." He stared at her for a moment, and she stared right back, still trying to get to that damn remote. Finally he sighed, pulling the mask over his head to reveal his face, covered in angry purple bruises. "What the fuck happened to you?" She couldn't keep the amusement from her voice, and he scowled.

"Get your pretty little ass up to the cockpit and start this bitch," he ordered. Her eyebrow rose, but she stood slowly, giving up on the remote for the moment. "You're on a short fuckin' leash, so don't push it," he warned. She sent him a cocky smile, her steps pausing as she passed him, stopping at his side. Her head turned toward him, intentionally positioning her face just a breath away from his.

"I wouldn't dream of it," she whispered, making a show of flicking her eyes down to his lips and back up to his eyes. A quick flash passed through his eyes, and she smiled, winking as she continued to the ladder. "What's up, Jess?" she asked cheerily as she headed toward the cockpit, flopping into her chair and buckling in. He, too, pulled the mask off his head and stared at Jackson as he followed up the ladder.

"What the fuck?" Jesse asked quietly. Jackson shook his head, pointing toward one of the passenger seats.

"I'm in a generous mood," Jackson answered, not seeing the smirk on Kat's lips. "We're giving her the rest of the period to try to get there. She doesn't make it, we carry out."

"Ray's gonna give you hell," Jesse warned.

"Let him," Jackson replied. "Just gives us an excuse to play a little." A knowing smile lit Jesse's face as he buckled in.

"Just to warn you, gentlemen," Kat called from the pilot's seat, "we're taking three starjumps in a row. Might want to tighten your har…ness…es." The last word was broken up as she watched Jackson strap in next to her, claiming the navigator's chair. She swore inwardly, not getting the chance to get to her precious remote.

"You crazy?" Jackson asked calmly, though he pulled his straps a little tighter than he normally would. "Three jumps will tear this ship into pieces."

"We'll see, won't we?"


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

Riddick stared out the window, his annoyance growing as Toombs' snores grew louder. Every now and again, leather would groan angrily as the former merc shifted in his seat, adjusting himself in the process. Silver disappeared behind toffee lids, and Riddick let himself fall into his usual catnap. Not fifteen minutes later, a shrill beeping tore through the cabin, startling both occupants.

"What the fuck is that?" Riddick growled, tapping buttons on the console. After playing around for a while, the beeping finally stopped, and they both stared at the monitor as a message patched itself in. A blurry picture appeared, sharpening one pixel at a time, and both men found themselves straining to make out what it was.

"Jesus Christ," Toombs whispered, Kat's face finally coming into view. The picture jumped a little before the video finally straightened itself out and restarted from the beginning.

"Well, Toombs," she said with a wry smile. "I figured you'd follow me anyway. That's why I left so early. You sleep a little too hard." She chuckled a little, but the smile fell quickly, and her eyes sobered. "If you're watching this message, it means something went wrong. I'm taping this just after I took off." She glanced over her shoulder at something quickly before turning back to the camera. "Breaking out of the Nubis system right now. Anyway, this message uploaded along with a modified virus I wrote specifically for a situation like this. You've got a tracer upload on the location of my ship, and until they find the remote in my pocket, a tracer on me. I don't know if they'll think to look for all this shit, but if they try as hard as I think they might, they'll know, so watch your back." She sighed, tucking her hair behind her ears and rubbing her eyes. "You know how much I hate to ask for help, but if you're getting this…" she shook her head. "If you're getting this message then I really need your help." Toombs swallowed thickly. "My best guess is that they'll send Jackson Hayes, Jesse Michaels, and Tara Smith to pick me up wherever I end up being if I don't make it on time. They all work for Ray Spitz. His best. I'm sending this because he sent someone to find me, at any rate." The video glitched for a while, and Riddick swore as he tried to adjust it, finally getting it to come through again. "I'm sending this because he sent someone to find me, at any rate." A small, sad smile passed over her lips quickly, and she took a slow breath, letting it out in a sigh. "I know I said I didn't want you involved because I didn't want you to fuck up your life by spending it with me, but I think now's the time to be honest. I left because I wanted a cavalry. I had a feeling this wasn't going to go smoothly, and I needed us to be separated in case something happened." Another long pause. "I know you're probably really pissed off at me right now, and I know it probably doesn't mean much to you, but I love you." A quick smile. "Make it quick." The transmission fuzzed and then broke off, a small window indicating that a program had been installed and needed permission to run.

"What do you think?" Riddick asked slowly, eyeing the dialogue window.

"Run it," Toombs said. Riddick nodded, and the program opened, showing a screen similar to radar with a yellow light blinking, a smaller red one layered under it. An icon blinked in the corner, and Toombs reached over Riddick's shoulder, receiving a quick glance, and opened it.

_Toombs - Quick instructions. Proximity buffer zone is 115 kilometers. Don't come any closer than that or my alarms will go off. No contact. Bring lots of things that go boom. – Kat_

"Shit," Toombs whispered, shaking his head.

"Shit is right," Riddick said slowly. "You know anything about Raymond Spitz?"

"More than I want to."

"I know Jackson," Riddick continued. "Met him at Ursa Luna." He chuckled a little, watching Toombs glance at him quickly. "Doesn't like me much." Toombs let out a sarcastic laugh and slid into the navigator's chair.

"So what's the plan?"

"Well, if she was headed to Kygon 3, that's where Ray is. He's the kind of guy that does business face to face." He studied the radar screen for a while, comparing it with his own. "And judging by her position, she's not going to make it. If the three goons are with her, they'll kill her when time's up. What the fuck?" The yellow and red dots disappeared for a moment, reappearing a few systems further out. Riddick's brow furled as it happened again, then a third time. "Jesus Christ, she just triple jumped." Toombs' brow rose as Riddick quickly strapped in. "Get your buckles on," Riddick directed, taking the controls and unlocking manual piloting. "We're following, and it's gonna be bumpy."

"You're fuckin' shittin' me." The pressure of the jump hit Toombs like an anvil, his head instantly pounding. Once the first jump was finished, a smile lit Riddick's face, and he started counting down three minutes before the next. She might be in a big hurry to get somewhere, but he wasn't willing to risk a jump hangover just to follow. "You really get off on this shit, don't you," Toombs groaned.

"What, you don't like starjumps?" Toombs never got the chance to answer, as Riddick hit the second jump. Black spots swam before Toombs' eyes, and he struggled to hold his head up.

---

Kat gritted her teeth, howling as the third jump continued on for what seemed like forever. Luckily for her, the seat Jesse had chosen to sit in had a fickle harness, and Jackson had had to get up to help him figure out how to get it to stay buckled, giving her time to find her remote. She struggled to turn her head to the side, the pressure seeming to increase with each jump, but the smile came easily as she saw Jackson leaning forward, only his harness holding him in his chair. _Fucker passed out,_ she thought with a mental snicker. _Puss._ An instant later, the weight lifted, and she felt the floating sensation for just a split second.

"You okay back there Jesse?" she called, her voice suddenly hoarse.

"Fuck you, Taylor," he growled. She couldn't help but laugh.

"Where am I supposed to land?"

"Kygon 3," came the reply.

"I know that, fuckhead," she snapped. "It's a big fucking planet. You're gonna have to narrow it down for me."

"You're not gonna make it, so it doesn't really matter, does it?" Jesse huffed, struggling to figure out how to release his harness.

"I'm on the outer edge of the system, Jess," she muttered. "36 hours or so. Just fucking tell me."

"Symalus landing strip." She nodded, programming the location into the ship's computer. "We're really on the outer edge of the system?" he asked after a moment. She only nodded, adjusting a few controls on the console. Finally, he got the damn harness undone, and stood, leaning against the back of her chair. "Jesus."

"Told you," she said, a hint of a pout to her voice. "And you were ready to kill me without even giving me a fucking chance."

"Look, Taylor…"

"It's Kat now," she interjected. "Katrina Marshal."

"Ray's the boss, Kat," he corrected.

"What, he'd rather kill someone than get paid? Stupid fucker if you ask me," she huffed.

"I'll be sure to tell him you said that," Jesse snickered, smiling as she shot him a glare. "Chill. I'm kidding."

"There's a med kit down in the cargo hold," she said flatly. "Go see if there's something to wake Jackson up with." Jesse nodded, disappearing. With Jesse gone and Jackson passed out, she had a few moments to check out her real radar, but was quickly disappointed. There was nothing in range of her 300 kilometer field, meaning _if_ her message was sent and _if_ Toombs got it, he wasn't anywhere close enough to where he needed to be. She quickly switched back to the loop she'd installed as Jesse came back up the stairs, carrying a medical kit. Jackson woke with a lurch and a groan, and Kat had to hold back a laugh.

She knew Ray had filled his port with snipers. She could almost feel their lasers on her, but she knew better than to look around for them. Instead, she stared straight ahead, Jackson holding one elbow and Jesse the other as they steered her toward the compound. A door opened, and she was pushed through it, falling to the floor with a grunt. She popped to her feet, but the door was slammed, and she heard the lock turn.

"FUCK!" She glanced around the room. Nothing. Not even a mattress on the floor. Hell, not even a blanket. She heaved a sigh, thankful they'd not searched her well enough to find the remote she'd dropped into her underwear. With shaky fingers, she pulled it out, sighing in relief as the green light continued to blink. At least it still had service.

She sat there for a while, knees pulled to her chest and arms wrapped around them to hold in as much warmth as she could. Now, she figured it was a good thing her ship's heater hadn't worked well. She'd had to wear heavy cargos, two pairs of socks, her heavy boots, and a thick sweater over her beater, so at least she was slightly protected against the cold. A shiver raked over her, her teeth chattering a little, and she sighed.

Coming into this, she'd known she would be isolated and kept out of the process. It made sense, really. Clients couldn't give any intel if they ever got turned because they didn't have any. Ray was always moving from one compound to the next, one planet to the next. And identity switching wasn't his only means of income. He was probably one of the worst when it came to bad guys. She dropped her head, letting her forehead rest on her knees.

---

"So if we can't get within 115 clicks of her ship, how the fuck are we supposed to get to her?" Toombs asked quietly, hanging onto the rafters of the undercutter as Riddick approached a clearing in a wooded area.

"How much money you got?" Toombs' eyebrow rose slowly, then Riddick snickered, shaking his head. "Ever heard of a fuckin' cab?"

"You're actually just going to pull up on a cab and knock on the fucking door to this asshole's compound?" Toombs snorted.

"We'll take a cab to the nearest town and hike in." Toombs shrugged, flopping into a chair to buckle in. He let his mind wander, images of her dancing in his head and making the time disappear as Riddick set the ship down and hid it in a clump of trees, snapping back to reality as the engines powered down and Riddick's harness clicked as he unbuckled it. "Get two backpacks together. Two days' rations and the rest guns and ammo." Toombs nodded, rifling through his lockers to start packing. A few minutes later, they were on the way to the nearest street.

---

Kat snapped out of her light nap at the click the turning of the lock of her door made, her head nearly hitting the wall she was leaning against at the speed with which she lifted it. She stood slowly, taking a defensive stance as the door swung open to reveal Raymond Spitz, standing in the doorway in a black leather trench coat. An amused smile touched the portion of his lips the scar angling down his face didn't immobilize, and she tensed.

"Easy," he said slowly, adding a soft laugh. Her eyebrow rose.

"Forgive me for being a little pissed off at being throw in a fucking closet the minute I got here," she spat sarcastically. He let out another light laugh, shaking his head as he took a step – just one – into the room. _He's gonna leave me here again,_ she thought quickly, a sudden pang of dread conquering her stomach. She swallowed involuntarily, nearly choking. "So how's everything coming?" she asked, keeping the scowl firmly in place. He shrugged a little.

"It'll take a few days," he said quietly, reaching into an inner pocket of his coat. She watched carefully, noting the smarmy smile working its way to his lips. "In the mean time, I need you to read and sign these using the name you wish to assume," he added, dropping a stack of papers on the floor. "Slide them under the door when you're done." She glanced down at them quickly, her eyes darting back up to his face. He crouched to set a pen on the stack of papers and righted, giving her the once over before backing out of the door. She sighed, dropping her head as it locked behind him. A moment later, eyes still on the door, she picked up the stack of papers and pen, returning to her corner to browse.

---

"Jesus Christ," Riddick whispered, shaking his head as he peered through the bushes. Toombs' eyes narrowed in vain, trying to focus despite the darkness. All he could see was the few areas in the compound that were lighted. A few windows, forms moving in all of them, and a couple outer lights. "I'm guessing she's in there," Riddick continued, pointing toward a slightly isolated building. "No windows, one door, probably locked," he assessed, cocking his head to the side. "I say we wait a while and do some nosing around." Toombs nodded slowly, glancing around the compound some more.

"Think we should stay here?" Toombs asked. Riddick also glanced around, shrugging.

"Guess we'll find out eventually if they do rounds." Toombs snickered, shaking his head as he settled at the base of a tree, crossing his arms over his chest.

"You snore like you did on the ship and I'll kill you in your sleep," Riddick warned, receiving a wary glance. He kept his grin hidden.

---

Kat's eyes ached. She'd gone through half the stack now, and her hand was already starting to cramp. An hour later, she slid the stack under the door, staring at the pen in her hands. It was quickly deposited into her pocket, and she went back to her corner.

---

She opened her eyes slowly, watching three men walk into the room, Ray in tow. One of the men carried a camera, another a blue swatch of material. Her eyebrow rose, head tilting to the side. Ray stepped around from behind his three thugs, hands buried in his pockets.

"Hope you're up for having your picture taken, Katrina," he said, that smarmy smirk back. She made a face at him before rolling her eyes. He nodded at the man with the cloth, and she watched as he taped it to the wall.

"It's crooked," she said with amusement for the glare the man shot her. With a forced smile, she let them take the picture that would become her new ID photo. As the man reached to take the cloth off the wall, she shoved her hands in her pockets, her finger closing around the pen she'd stashed. With lightning speed, she buried it in dude's temple, her foot darting out to catch the advancing man in the balls. He doubled over, and she pulled the pen from the guy's head, holding it like a dagger as she eyed the third thug now approaching her. As she took a step to attack, she found herself on the receiving end of the barrel of Ray's gun, and she tilted her head back a little to keep him from smashing it up her nose. Her arms rose slowly, and he glanced at the bloodied pen, watching it drop with a quiet clatter as her hand opened. Angry eyes stared up at the man holding the gun, narrowed slightly. Ray's eyebrow rose.

"You act like you didn't know you'd be kept separate from the process," he said, his voice low and dangerous.

"I didn't know you'd keep me like a fucking prisoner with barely enough food or water," she spat, her voice strained by the pressure of her leaning her head back so far. "Hell, you didn't even give me a bucket to take a piss in, now did you? No wonder you've got such a shitty reputation." With a grunt, she found herself pressed face first into the wall, Ray's hand on the back of her head grinding her cheek into the rough stucco. She flattened her hands on the wall, trying to push him back and away from her, but he'd braced for it.

"I figured I could trust you with a pen," he growled into her ear.

"I have a tendency to steal pens," she snickered, struggling further only to have him put more pressure on the wall through her body. The breath left her in a groan, and it was a little too hard to draw more to replace it.

"If I didn't have such a high priority on my reputation of following through I'd let my boys here have a little bit of fun before killing you," he ground out. She heard two pairs of boots shuffle behind them and felt the knots in her stomach tighten. "You behave yourself from this point in time until you get your papers in your hand or I'll make sure everyone in the known universe sees you as an example of what _not_ to do while dealing with me." She nodded the best she could, taking in huge gulps of air as he backed away from her. The two thugs stayed behind even after Ray left, and she stood to her full height, her breathing slowly returning to normal.

"What're you gonna do know?" she asked, adding a threatening tone. One of the men twitched up an eyebrow and nodded toward the body. She mirrored the brow and tilted her head to the side, watching the other man stoop to grab the dead man's feet and drag him from the room.

"I'm really hoping you fuck up," the remaining goon grinned. "I've got several ideas for what I'd do to that ass." She let out a growl, narrowing her eyes, and the man only chuckled, shaking his head as he walked out of the room, slamming and locking the door behind him. She heaved a sigh, working her head from side to side, sick pops and cracks echoing off the bare walls. Her eyes lingered on the pool of blood drying to the floor, and a satisfied smile touched her lips before she settled back in her corner, curling into a ball on her side.

---

Riddick reached out, smacking Toombs' leg and shushing him as he woke with a start. He nodded toward the compound and Toombs scanned the compound, eyebrow rising as a man pulled another man's body out of the shack they thought Kat was being kept in. Riddick nodded slowly, and Toombs settled back against the tree.

"She's in there," Riddick said quietly. Toombs nodded, rubbing his eyes.

"She's fucked now," he grumbled, shaking his head.

"Not necessarily," Riddick interjected. "They're not dragging her out, and Ray was holstering a pistol. Pulled it on her, but it was probably just a threat. He probably values his reputation too much to let a deal go bad unless he has no other options." Toombs watched Riddick as Riddick continued to watch the compound. "No, she's still in there, and she's still alive."

"So what's the plan?"

"We wait and see if he gets her papers and then decide," Riddick suggested.

"Fuck the papers," Toombs said quickly. Riddick turned his head to glare. "We don't know if he's even working on it, or if he's planning on killing her later. Letting her feel safe for a while first."

"Ray's the kind of guy that'll kill her slowly. We'll hear it if he starts." Toombs' jaw clenched, and he swallowed thickly. "We wait it out and do what we gotta do." After a moment, Toombs nodded slowly.

---

Kat's tongue darted out to probe the deep cut in her lower lip from being mashed into the wall. Copper filled her mouth, and she swore, spitting blood. The lock turned, and her head snapped up, eyes narrowing as Ray walked back in. She didn't bother standing up. Without a word, he dropped two cards on the ground next to her, along with a thick sealed envelope.

"We're still working on deleting your past. The last time you see anyone is when we come to tell you it's finished."

"And then what?" she asked quietly, brushing her hair out of her eyes.

"Then you get to take your shitty little cruiser and leave, and we'll be gone shortly after that," he said flatly. "You come back here and you're dead on sight."

"I get it," she said, nodding slowly. "You get the transfer?"

"Luckily for you, every penny," he said with a small smirk. "Sweet dreams."

"Fuck off," she muttered, shifting against the wall. Her ass had been numb for two days now. As soon as the door clicked shut again, she reached out, running her fingers over her new ID cards. She ripped the envelope open, reading her newly created history, satisfied that they were going to the trouble and risk of deleting her penal files as she'd asked. She'd soon be a regular, upstanding citizen. A twisted smile touched her lips.


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Riddick sighed, shifting against the tree trunk as he tried to move away from the large root slowly starting to ride up his ass the more he relaxed. He shook his head, glancing over at Toombs, who was sleeping soundly. Two blue orbs appeared slowly as Riddick moved to a crouch, peering over the tops of the bushes.

"See somethin'?" Toombs whispered. Riddick nodded, holding a hand out to signal that Toombs be still. The merc swallowed thickly, reaching for the pack at his side that contained the guns and ammo. Riddick shook his head, and Toombs' arm paused, hovering in the air. A moment later, the blue eyes widened, Riddick launching himself at the merc. "What the fuck?" Toombs stammered as Riddick wound his fingers tightly in his hair, drawing his head away from the tree trunk.

"Never trust a fuckin' con," Riddick growled with a sardonic grin. Toombs took a breath to object, but the world went black as his head was slammed back against the rough bark, knocking him out cold. A throaty chuckle vibrated deep in Riddick's chest, and he shook his head, standing slowly as he scanned his surroundings.

---

Kat sighed, lifting her head slowly as the knob rattled. More time passed, and her brows furled, the knob just continuing to jiggle. It couldn't have been someone from Ray's crew – they'd have a key and just come right in. She stood slowly, suddenly wishing she'd not dropped the pen, though there was no way she could have kept it. A moment later, the door swung open and a large, dark figure stood. Her eyebrow rose, muscles tensing as the masked person entered the room, swinging the door shut behind him. As he took another step forward, she attacked, throwing a series of punches, desperately trying to give herself a window to escape through the door he'd left slightly open. That window closed as he slammed her into the wall, trapping her arms between her chest and his.

"What the fuck do you want?" she hissed, staring up at the figure's face. He held a finger to his lips and shook his head, quickly clamping a hand over her mouth as she took another breath to speak. Her brows knitted as she finished the breath through her nose, her eyes narrowing.

"Come with me, quietly," he whispered. She nodded against his hand, and he pulled it away but kept it hovering near her face in case she changed her mind. She pursed her lips together, and a hint of a smile crossed his lips. He nodded once, grasping her by the wrist as he went to the door, looking before darting out and across the compound. A few hundred meters outside the main wall, she slid to a stop, and he nearly jerked her arm out of the socket. He glanced back to her, pulling the mask off his face with a quizzical expression.

"Where's Toombs?"

"He's waiting for us at the ship," Riddick said quickly. "Let's go. Now." She stood her ground, scowling.

"Why didn't he come with you and take my ship? I've got the communications equipment and shit to make sure they don't follow," she said, gesturing behind her at the compound wall.

"Well, one," Riddick said slowly, "This way they won't know you're gone until they come to tell you the transaction is complete." Her eyebrow rose. "And two, they've got a tracer on your ship. We watched them install it yesterday." She stood there for a minute, mulling that over.

"So he's waiting at his ship where?"

"The next city." After a moment, she finally nodded, quickly catching up with his quick pace.

---

Toombs woke with a groan, a bird chirping loudly in the tree above him. He rolled to his side, slowly reaching to the back of his head and looking to his fingers, not surprised to see blood there. He shook his head, slowly pushing himself up to his feet, staring at the darkened compound. His eyes narrowed, and, against his better judgment, started for the small building, glancing around quickly and keeping to the shadows. His lips moved without a sound, but he swore inwardly as loud as he could. Her door pushed open easily, and there was a large pool of dried blood in the floor. The muscles in his jaw clenched, and his eyes snapped over to her ship.

---

Something just didn't feel right. Kat shook her head slightly, taking a tentative step onto the lowered ramp as Riddick just waltzed right up, his hand hovering over the switch to close the hatch, looking at her expectantly. She glanced back out over the meadow he'd landed in and back up to his face, just staring at him for a moment. He'd worn contacts, and between those and the shine, she couldn't get a read on his eyes. She let out a slow breath and walked up the rest of the way, watching the ramp rise and latch.

"Let's go," Riddick said roughly, pushing past her toward the cockpit.

"Where's Toombs?" she pressed.

"Fuck Toombs, darlin'," he drawled, turning back to her with a wide grin. Her eyes narrowed. "And don't get any ideas," he added, raking his eyes over her. "You know I'm stronger, faster, and just all around better. I wouldn't even try if I were you."

"You're not me," she hissed, crossing her arms over her chest.

"You're right," Riddick said slowly, letting the lewd smile drop from his face only to be replaced with his scary face. She only blinked quickly, but her eyes never wavered from his. "You wanna push it?" Her brow arched slowly, head tilting at a tiny angle. He saw her shoulder twitch and reached out, twining his hands in her hair. She clawed at his arms, drawing blood, but his grip only tightened, forcing her backwards and against the latched ramp. Her eyes widened as he pulled her forward, kissing her forehead before slamming her back against the metal hull. Stars swam before her eyes, and the darkness closed in. "Didn't think so," he gruffed, watching her slide down the wall to the floor.

---

Toombs sat in her chair, closing his eyes as her scent hit his nostrils. _Don't have time for this_, he scolded himself, shaking his head as he snapped his eyes back open. His fingers flew over the controls, but paused as a prompt popped up asking for his username.

"Fuck." _Which name would she use?_ He sighed, glancing up at the horizon to gauge the amount of time he had before daybreak. Not long. He tried 'Katrina', but got a red flash on the screen and three beeps before the prompt reappeared. "Shit." Next came 'Taylor', but the same thing happened. "Son of a bitch." Finally, he tried his own name, brows arching in surprise as the screen flashed green and the engines hummed to life. "Well, I'll be damned." He quickly flipped a switch, changing to silent mode, and the engines quieted. The ship lifted off the ground slowly, and he directed her out over the woods, slowly arcing upwards into the sky. He waited until he was sure he was out of range before hitting the ion drive, the ship lurching forward into the atmosphere.

---

"Hey Ray?" Raymond looked up from the book poised in his hands and sat up, swinging his legs to the ground as the leather couch groaned. "She's gone." The messenger swallowed thickly as Ray's eyebrow rose slowly.

"And the work?"

"Complete. They didn't find out until they went to find her." Ray nodded slowly.

"Let it go. We have the money, and that's all that matters. She wouldn't have come back to us for anything anyway," he commented.

"Let it go?" the man repeated, a quizzical expression on his face.

"Yes, Marks, let it go," Ray said more firmly. "I'm not going to waste my time, money, _or_ personnel to track her down just because she left before the work was complete. She kept up her end of the bargain, and that's good enough for me. I don't give a shit whether she waited until our end of the deal was finished or not. Let it go." Marks nodded slowly, backing out of Ray's office and closing the door behind him.

---

When Kat woke, she knew she was in trouble. Her fingers were numb and somewhere above her head, and a dull throb pulsed through her brain. She inhaled sharply, taking the time to feel things out before opening her eyes to confirm. Somehow, she'd twisted her legs under her, sitting with one cheek on the ground, the other resting on an ankle, and her other leg bent to the side. She was probably set down on her knees and slid to one side, she figured. Her arm twitched, and she couldn't help but cringe at the sound of metal clinking together. _Motherfucker chained me up_, she thought heatedly.

"You think they're gonna come lookin' for you?" Kat's head snapped up, surprised at his voice.

"I don't know," she answered quietly. Her eyes followed his movements as he stood, walking to her and crouching in front of her. "Toombs will, though," she added after a moment, rubbing the back of her head on her forearm, her chains rattling again..

"Probably," he said, cocking his head to the side for a moment. "And then what?" Her eyes narrowed. "You'll run off with him and live happily ever after?" His snicker was bitter and sarcastic. "Wake up, doll," he chided, watching her throat contract as she swallowed thickly. "Once a merc, always a merc."

"He doesn't have anything on me," she snapped. "As of yesterday, I'm legally Katrina Marshall with no record and no history in the penal system. They could run my biometrics if they wanted to. Even DNA. All they'd get is a clean record for a girl who looks like the twin sister of Taylor West."

"Transitions are never completely clean, Kat," Riddick said, his voice suddenly gentle. "Files are time stamped, and if he went to them and said your files had been changed, if they tried hard enough, they could figure that out."

"He wouldn't," she insisted, though her voice wavered just a bit.

"I'm doing you a favor," Riddick said, standing slowly. "You can thank me later."

"Fuck you."

"You're not my type," he spat back, not turning around to see the look on her face as he returned to the pilot's chair. He knew she'd be pissed. He just hoped it worked.

---

Toombs sighed, running a sweep of the ship. He knew he had to disable the tracker on her ship without disabling the tracker on the remote still in her pocket, but he wasn't sure how. After a moment of thought, he just poked around in her read-only files for a while, hoping to get lucky and find she'd left herself instructions. A few minutes later, he found what he was looking for and disabled the device, quickly switching back over to the radar, satisfied to see the yellow dot still blinking, heading toward the Okolona system. He swore and shook his head, programming a course.

He left the cockpit with a heavy sigh, flopping onto her bunk. Her scent was stronger here, and he closed his eyes to concentrate on it. Curiosity got the better of him, and he lifted the lid of her laptop, blinking quickly as he saw himself. She'd set a picture of him as her desktop. That soft and uncharacteristic smile touched his lips, and he shook his head, snapping the damn thing shut quickly and rolling over to face the wall.

---

Kat sighed, still staring up at the ceiling. Riddick hadn't spoken to her for almost another whole day, and the silence was starting to get to her. She'd twiddled her thumbs, cracked her knuckles, adjusted the position of her legs, cracked her ankles, cracked her neck, stared at the ceiling, stared at the wall, and none of it kept her busy enough to stop worrying about what he was going to do with her. Finally, she rattled her restraints in a semi-tantrum, smirking as Riddick turned an ear toward her sharply.

"Chill," she groaned. "I'm fuckin' bored."

"Too bad," he grunted back. Her smirk fell to a glower, and she stared at him for a moment.

"You got a shower on this bitch or something?" she asked after a beat, glancing around the small ship.

"Toombs' ship, smart shit," Riddick snapped back. "And yes, there's one down in the belly."

"A shower in the belly of a ship?" she asked, half to herself. "That's weird."

"Only place with room for it," Riddick said, sighing as he stood and stretched, smirking as he watched her eyes slide over him quickly. "No real water, just to warn you," he said with a small shrug. "Sonic cleaner." She shook her head slowly. "Easier to maintain."

"You sound like you know a lot about ships," she said, quirking a brow at him. He took a few steps toward her, smiling as she didn't move to attempt to get away from him. She wasn't allowed much room to move anyway.

"You had one hell of an arsenal on that ship of yours," he countered. Her eyes darkened. "I ran a scan when we were tracking you down. See how close I could get without tripping anything." She nodded, but the wary expression remained. "Nice collection of communications shit."

"I like to keep in touch with certain people," she said cautiously, eyeing him as he took another few steps forward. "And know when others are on my tail." He cocked his head to the side, granting her point. She sighed, tearing her eyes from his. "Look, I'm not dumb, okay? Just quit fucking with me and tell me what's going on." He feigned innocence, receiving a glare. Finally, he cackled.

"You ask, I'll answer."

"Does that mean I'm going to believe you?" she fired back.

"Your call," he said with a small shrug.

"What happened to Toombs?"

"He took a nap and I took the opportunity to get you out," Riddick said flatly.

"A nap, huh?" She scratched her forehead with her thumb. "Cut the shit and tell me what happened."

"What do you mean?"

"You killed him, didn't you?" Even she expected that question to invoke a quiver in her voice, but it was just as flat and emotionless as his had been. He was obviously surprised at that, and she couldn't help but smirk and add a point to her column.

"No, actually, I didn't," Riddick said slowly. Her eyebrow rose. "I knocked him out and left him in the bushes." A weighty pause. "Where no one would find him unless he wanted to be found." She nodded slowly, licking her lips as she thought up her next question.

"What happened to my ship?"

"I don't know," he said quickly, defensively. "Did I blow it up? No. Did I sabotage it at all? No. But I can't guarantee that once they realized you were gone they didn't do something and start a sweep of the grounds."

"Meaning they could have found him by now," she interjected.

"It's possible," Riddick said. "But that all depends on how long he stayed passed out and how he felt when he came to." She nodded again, and he waited for the next stage of her interrogation of him.

"Now what?"

"Now what what?" She couldn't help but laugh, though it was sarcastic and harsh. He found himself smiling at the sound of it. Finally, she flopped back against the wall.

"First off, I find it hard to believe you'd just go and risk waking up Ray's guys to rescue me. I was fine. I panicked when Jackson and his goons magically showed up on my ship, but I handled it. Talked them out of killing me on the spot and proved to them I could make it in two days." Riddick nodded, slowly lowering himself into a chair across from her, leaning toward her. She quickly decided she didn't have enough room to lurch forward and try to bite him. He'd probably just knock her out again anyway. "I doubt very seriously you give two shits about me at all, especially considering you've got me chained to the fucking wall, so I'm just trying to figure out why the fuck you decided to get me out of there." He took a breath to answer, but she continued, sending him a look. "I also find it hard to believe you left a merc alive with a reason to be pissed off at you."

"Ex-merc," Riddick corrected with a smirk.

"Like you said, once a merc always a merc," she snapped. He shrugged. "I know he's not a merc, but that doesn't mean he won't get you back."

"No one gets me back." Riddick's voice had suddenly taken on a dangerous tone, and she found herself smiling, adding another point to her column.

"I just want to know what the hell you plan on trying to pull on me," she said, lowering her voice as well. His brow rose slowly, and he leaned back. "I remember back in New Harlem you said something about stealing me from Toombs," she commented, blowing her hair out of her eyes. "I'm not his in the first place. Not property, can't be stolen." Riddick snickered, her glare failing to faze him. "And just so you know where _you_ stand," she paused, waiting until his eyes met hers. "It'll never happen, and if you try, I _will_ kill you." He blinked quickly. "And don't think I couldn't. It's amazing what a cornered animal can pull off if she feels threatened enough."

"You don't have to tell me that," he said, a touch of respect in his voice. "But keep in mind," he added, pausing for effect. "_You're_ the one that's chained up."

"And how long do you plan on keeping me this way?" she asked, rattling the restraints in demonstration. He quirked a brow at her, and a sickening feeling rolled her stomach.

"Until we get to the Okolona system." He stood and returned to his seat.

"You're gonna sell me, is that it?" He didn't respond, which only angered her even more. "What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?" She ranted some more, receiving nothing from the man driving the ship toward the end of her life as she knew it. Finally, she shut up and resorted to fuming in silence. She had to get the upper hand somehow.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter 10

Kat lurched back to the real world, the shudder of the tiny undercutter shaking her from her dreams. She groaned as she shifted, still chained to the wall and pooled on the floor, her legs twisted uncomfortably. As she moved, her hip popped, and her mouth fell open in a silent scream until the sensation returned to her toes.

"Riddick?"

"What." Demand more than question.

"What the fuck was that?"

"Just some turbulence, go back to sleep," he returned gruffly.

"Wasn't asleep," she mumbled to herself, moving around some more to find a new position. "How far away am I to the end of my life as a free human being?" She kept her eyes on Riddick, watching the light shift on his skin as his cheeks rose into a smile. That feeling returned to her stomach, and she nearly gagged.

"You want me to plug you into cryo so you don't have to think about it until we get there?" he asked, a touch of amusement in his voice.

"No," she said slowly. "That just means I wouldn't have as much time to think of a way out of this."

"There isn't one," he said with a small shrug. Her eyes narrowed.

"We'll see," she promised, receiving a loud bark of laughter. The leather of his chair creaked against his jeans as he stood, his smile widening as her eyes wandered over him again as he slowly walked toward her. The anger shone in her eyes as they followed his movements, meeting his as he crouched in front of her. "Make it easy on yourself and change your mind right now," she advised, her brow twitching upwards just a little. He reached out, and she didn't pull away as he ran his thumb over her cheek, her eyes still locked on his. Her fingers twitched above his head of their own volition, and his eyes were drawn to them, a bemused smirk playing on his lips.

"Come to think of it," he said, pausing to run his tongue over his lower lip, watching her eyes follow the motion. "There _is_ a way you can get yourself out of this after all." Her eyes returned to his quickly, brows knitting, and he nodded slowly.

"I don't think chewing my hands off at the wrists are really an option," she said flatly. "Can't reach them." The laugh her comment prompted grew as she showed him that she really couldn't do it if she wanted to, gnashing her teeth in thin air as she strained against her bindings. The moment passed, and Riddick's laughter slowed, ending with a vocalized sigh. His fingers returned to her cheek, and she fought the urge to chew on his wrist instead of her own, biting her lip instead.

"You know, I just might miss that when you're gone," Riddick said quietly. "Not many pieces of fresh meat are willing to talk back like that." Her proud smirk fell, quickly replaced with an expression of pure hatred. A moment later, she got herself in check. She needed toplay this the right way.

"Did you think about just keeping me for yourself?"

"Thought that wasn't going to happen," he pressed, involuntarily leaning a little closer to her.

"Better you than whatever ends up with the highest bid, I guess," she said, forcing herself to openly ogle him, finally shrugging one shoulder shyly. "Guess you're not too bad as long as you keep your mouth shut." His eyebrow rose.

"Meaning?"

"Your voice makes me feel like I need to clear my throat," she said, noting that it really was the case. Another quick laugh – not the forced 'I'm Riddick and I've got the upper hand' laugh, but the truly amused and entertained laugh. She found she liked it better anyway, and if it got him where she wanted him, so be it.

"If I'd known it'd be this easy to change your mind I wouldn't have wasted the fuel to come out this far," he said, staring down at her lips, where a tiny smile played.

"If I'd know it was so easy to play the sex card I would have tried it a long time ago," she said, watching his eyes shift up to hers before leaning forward and brushing her lips over his, hearing his breath catch. "How long has it been, hmm?" she purred, nuzzling her nose against his. She felt the low rumble in his chest, pulling away slightly as he tried to catch her, shaking her head slightly.

"Don't push me," he warned, eyes glinting mischievously. Her brow twitched again, and he traced it with a thumb, smoothing it back to a neutral perch on her face. "You have a decision to make," he said quietly, more gently than his warning. "Either you're my toy, or I sell you to be someone else's toy."

"Well, see," she said, leaning back against the wall away from him, "that decision would require information that I don't have as of yet."

"Which would be…?" She watched him reach for her, settling his hands on her thighs and digging his fingers in.

"Well, first off, I know the kind of people that are the buyers," she prefaced. "I know what they're like, and it's not fun." He cocked his head to the side, staring at his hands on her. "The vital piece of information I would need to decide between you and them is whether or not you're one of them." His eyes met hers quickly.

"I've never actually owned a toy before," he admitted, his voice lowering to a soothing, low growl.

"That's not what I mean."

"I know what you mean," he interjected.

"Then tell me," she insisted. "Tell me how brutal you like to be so I can decide whether or not I want to take the chance there might just be a Cassanova out there with a shit ton of money and a hardon for dark haired older meat or just let you have your way with me," she snapped.

"What, you want me to lie and tell you I'm always gentle and give half a shit about how it is for you?" he retorted.

"No, I want you to tell me how you really are so I know what I have to do. Because honestly, I can't imagine you caring about how it feels for anyone but you, and something tells me you like it rough, and the harder I fight the better it'll be." He blinked quickly. She glared at him, gauging his reaction. "Are you surprised because I guessed right or that I'd have the balls to even try to challenge you in some way?" She swallowed thickly, the reality of the situation finally starting to sink in.

"If I were you," he said slowly, turning his head away from her slightly, pausing to lick his lips. "I'd stay with me."

"Well, you've got a conflict of interest, wouldn't you say?" she spat, watching his eyes snap back to hers.

"It's your call," he finally said, standing slowly. She winced as he pressed his weight into her thighs as he stood, turning away from her. "But I wouldn't take my chances with those animals," he added as he settled back into his seat. "We're two days out. I need to refuel anyway, so we're stopping no matter what." She sighed, blinking back unshed tears.

---

Toombs woke with a start, nearly launching himself off her cot and onto the hard floor. He sighed, wiping the sweat from his forehead with a forearm before stretching and returning to the console. There were several files he'd not gone through yet, and curiosity was getting the better of him. His eyes narrowed, fingers moving rapidly over the keyboard. He opened one and swore loudly, his voice echoing through the cabin, even after he started modifying the program. When he tracked her down, she was going to get a serious talking to about that damn little remote control thing. If Riddick found out she had that thing rigged to blow her ship, he'd be royally fucked.

---

The feeling of dread intensified as the landing gear struck the pavement of the spaceport, and she nearly hurled. She felt herself tremble, knowing it wasn't from the cold, as sweat beaded up all over her skin. His boots rung against the metal flooring, thundering under her. He paused as he passed her, glancing down as she just stared away from him before stifling a sigh and leaving the ship to set up his fueling.

The ship was eerily quiet with everything turned off and no other humans around, and shifting to rattle the chains just to have noise didn't make her feel any better. She heaved a sigh and let her head drop back with a thunk against the hull behind her. He was gone a lot longer than she expected, and she was starting to drift off again when she heard the hydraulics of the hatch lowering. She swore quietly, shaking her head and squeezing her eyes shut. His footsteps stopped next to her again and she looked up slowly. A light smirk touched his lips, and he moved past her, settling back into his chair, powering up again.

"I didn't think you'd want to take your chances," he commented quietly. She shook her head a little, grimacing. "We're moving to a hangar for a while," he continued. "I've got some repairs I have to get done, and then we'll leave." She nodded, pressing against her restraints for leverage as the ship started moving again. The room grew dark as he pulled into the hangar, not bothering to turn the lights on, and it took a while for her eyes to adjust. When she lifted her head again, a pair of silver orbs were focused on her, prompting a shudder. "If I let you loose, you gonna play nice?" She gave him a half-hearted one-shouldered shrug, and he crouched in front of her. "I could use a hand with the repairs if you know anything about engines."

"A little," she said quietly, her eyes never wavering from his. He nodded, reaching into a pocket with one hand and grasping her wrist with the other. Once one of her hands was freed, she stood, ankles, knees, and hips popping in succession. He dropped the key back into his pocket and took her hands in his own, pressing her palms together and rubbing both her hands in his.

"I promise I won't try to break your spirit," he said quietly, smiling a little as her eyes met his in surprise. "You got a set of brass ones on you. I like that in a woman." Her eyebrow rose, and she yanked her hands from his, staring up at him until he moved toward the door, falling in behind him.

---

"We're not alone," Kat said quietly, kicking Riddick's leg as she cleaned off a wrench, eyeing the man perched against the frame of the hangar door. Riddick rolled out from under the ship, snatching the rag from her hands to clean up a little. He only succeeded in smearing the grease around.

"You need something?" he growled at the man, who only shrugged. "What are you doing here then?"

"I just wondered," the guy finally answered, nodding at Kat. That sickening feeling returned, and she had to lean against the ship.

"She's not for sale," Riddick grunted, not even bothering to look over his shoulder to see what the guy was nodding at.

"She's not marked," the guy said, hoping to defend himself, backing away as Riddick approached him.

"She's new. Haven't had time yet," Riddick said flatly. The guy nodded, quickly turning from the hangar. Riddick watched him go, standing there for a while before turning back to the ship. Kat had her arms wrapped around her middle, looking rather distressed. Riddick tossed her the rag and took the wrench dangling from her hand, not saying a word as he slid back under the ship. Metal clinked as he worked, and Kat didn't move.

---

"So are you going to?" Kat asked slowly, eyeing Riddick over her shoulder as she turned the latch to close the ramp. He paused, glancing at her quickly before peeling his grease-stained wifebeater over his head and dropping it to the floor.

"Am I going to what?" She sighed, leaning against the wall as she pulled her boots off, dropping them loudly to the floor.

"Mark me," she said, waiting until he was moving toward the shower unit before speaking. He stopped again, turning toward her completely.

"Do you want me to?"

"Were you planning on it?" she asked.

"No. But I will if you want me to," he answered with a nonchalant shrug.

"Oh, fuck off," she snapped with a glower. He snickered, shaking his head. She didn't bother sticking around as he undressed, stomping up the ladder into the cabin.

"Where the fuck do you think you're going?" she heard him call. She paused, a foot hovering over a rung of the ladder. With a sigh, she dropped back to the floor, glaring at him as he stood there in nothing but his shorts. His brow was raised, and he was eyeing her clothes.

"I'm not taking a fucking shower with you. It's a god damn sonic shower anyway."

"I don't care," he said flatly, wiggling a finger at her. She rolled her eyes, taking two steps closer to him. He reached out, hooking his finger in the front of her cargos and pulling her to him. She avoided his eyes as he pulled her shirt over her head, her brow furling as he went to work on her pants, his lips parted slightly as he watched her. He steered her into the shower unit, dropping their clothes into the sonic washer as he passed, flipping the switch to get it started.

The unit started humming as the cleaning started, a gentle breeze blowing through her hair and raising goose bumps on her skin. He reached out, and she stared at the wall as he rubbed her arms gently, warming her. She jumped when his lips pressed to her forehead, but he threaded his fingers through her hair and pulled her back to him.

"There's something you need to realize," he said quietly, feeling her tense as he wrapped his other arm around her waist. "I might be a good owner, but that doesn't make you less of a pet. I admire your spunk, but you need to watch it." She nodded, only because she knew it was what he wanted her to do. "You'll learn eventually."

"What?" He pulled away a little, and she finally looked up at him. "What will I learn eventually?"

"How much you can get away with." She would have laughed, but the expression on his face stopped the chuckle in her throat.

"See, I would think someone who had spent so much time as a prisoner wouldn't want to do that to another human being," she popped off, instantly rewarded with a wicked slap, her head snapping to the side. She righted herself, gingerly rubbing her reddened cheek as she glared back at him. "Guess being clever isn't allowed," she commented dully, quirking her eyebrow at his warning look. "Gonna hit me again?"

"Hey, you got yourself into this by pulling the sex card first," he said.

"And you played it," she fired back. "Now you got yourself a smartass sex toy that's not afraid of taunting you and taking the heat for it." He took a breath, but she continued: "And I seriously doubt you'd kill your _sex toy_, right? So that means I just have to worry about getting fucked three ways from Sunday, hit, and ordered around, is that it? Except, oh wait. You've not even _tried_ to make a fucking move yet, have you? That's right, _I _played the fucking sex card, and you just took it." Before he could get a grasp on her, she darted out of the sonic shower, slamming the door behind her and rifling through the washer for her clothes, pulling them on angrily. He stood there for a moment, smirking, before reaching for the handle, watching her huff past him and up the ladder before dressing and following. She'd reclined one of the seats and curled up on her side. He settled into his seat and powered up just what was needed to engage the security alarms.

"You know how to pilot?" he asked. She flopped onto her other side, facing away from him now, and didn't answer. The leather creaked as he turned to look at her. "Kat. Do you know how to pilot?" he asked more firmly.

"No." He nodded in satisfaction, but still locked the controls before standing and reclining the chair next to hers. She heard him settle in, then felt his hand close around her elbow and tug gently. No use resisting.

"C'mere," he said gruffly, pulling her onto him. She sat on his hips, her legs hanging over either side of his chair. "They say eventually most people get used to their situation and learn to accept it."

"You never accepted your prison sentences," she said quietly, staring at his shirt, her arms crossed over her chest. He sighed, gripping her forearms and pulling her forward against him, her head settling just under his chin.

"You're not me."

"And I'm not most people either," she retorted. He nodded, toying with her hair.

"But you do realize what you've gotten yourself into…"

"Yeah, I guess," she said with a small shrug. He shifted under her, trying to get a look at her face. She lifted up a little to look at him. "But that doesn't mean I'm going to like it or even pretend to like it." A tiny smile tugged at the corners of his lips, his large hand settling on the back of her head. "You want me to fake it?" she asked quietly. His smile fell, and he lifted up to press his lips to hers, gently at first and then more insistently as she didn't respond. She'd always hated it when people kept their eyes open while kissing, but she did it now, watching him fight to gain her compliance as she continued to refuse, even as he gently bit her lower lip.

The hand holding her face to his slid down her back, joining the other at her waist, and though she wanted to, she knew better than to pull away. He ground his hips upwards into hers, sliding his hands into her back pockets to force her movements. Finally, he dropped his head with a frustrated growl. A surprised gasp passed her lips as he stood, and she flailed to clutch at his shoulders to keep from falling backwards. He took a couple steps away from the chairs and lowered her to her feet.

"That sweater needs to go," he said, motioning for her to take it off. She did, tossing it onto the chair she'd retreated to after leaving the shower. The anger rose as he walked circles around her, finally stopping behind her. "I like your hair longer," he said quietly, settling a hand on her shoulder.

"So does Toombs," she retorted, receiving a displeased grunt. A satisfied smirk touched her lips, but fell as he nipped at her neck, the detached expression returning. He lifted his hand from her shoulder, turning his attention to the black dragon marking her skin. He traced it with a finger, and her eyes closed, a tear breaking free as the touch brought back images of Toombs doing the same. His lips returned to the side of her neck, and he tilted her head to the side to get better access. A moment later, he pulled her tank top over her head, her bra quickly following. His hands skimmed down her sides, sliding around to her stomach. He traced the curves of the muscle before starting on her cargos, letting them settle in a pile around her ankles. She shivered as he stepped away from her, quickly peeling his own clothing off to join hers on the chair. His body heat returned, and he wrapped around her, pulling her backwards a little against his chest as he planted a light kiss on her temple, his fingers sliding lower and going to work.

Her body betrayed her, but she'd known all along that's how it worked. It didn't mean she'd be willing, or that she would respond any more than physically inevitable. He walked her back to the chair, picking her up easily and laying her down, sliding against her. Her head was trapped between his elbows, and she couldn't turn away to avoid his lips as they descended on hers again, tracing the inside of her upper lip with his tongue. His teeth closed on her lower lip again, and he pulled gently before letting it go, moving his kisses along her jaw. He nudged her thighs apart with his knees and stared down into her face for a moment before kissing her again, growling ferociously as she remained unresponsive, finally resorting to biting her hard enough to draw blood. She got the picture and kissed him back, though not nearly as fervently as he would have liked. As he pushed his hips forward, she let out a hiss through her nose, her breath blasting against his cheek as she tensed. He broke away from her, nipping at her earlobe.

"Relax," he crooned, stroking her hair. "It's easier on you that way." He heard her swallow, and waited a few moments before continuing, this time meeting less resistance. His groan rumbled through both of them, and she turned her head away as much as she could, surprised when he moved his arm to allow her to move it further, turning his attentions to the side of her neck as he moved. A light sheen of sweat broke out on her skin, mostly from the constant heat of his body. "Make noise for me," he commanded, whispering directly into her ear. She rolled her eyes, doing her best impression of a cheesy porn actress, and he stopped, staring down at her. She turned to face him again, eyebrow quirked.

"What?" He shook his head, his lips finding hers. She couldn't hold back the moan as his hands slipped between them, moving in rhythm with his hips. Her arms grew a mind of their own, wrapping around his neck, one hand settling on the back of his head as she kissed him back with more than she wanted to give, and the other pressing between his shoulder blades, her fingers digging in. It pissed her off to no end when she climaxed, and again when he did, and she pushed him off of her as soon as he stilled. He caught his balance, quickly stooping to press his lips to hers once more before snatching his clothes and disappearing to take another shower. "FUCK!" she screamed, knowing he would hear her but not caring in the least. She dressed quickly, trembling as she slid into the pilot's seat and started typing away at the computer.


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter 11

A pair of large hands suddenly grasped her arms, and she started, glad the chair she'd occupied was bolted to the floor or she would've knocked it backwards. Then again, there was the giant body standing right behind her that would probably have blocked her fall. His fingers dug into her skin, and she let him pull her hands away from the keyboard.

"What the fuck do you think you're doing?" he growled, the gravel in his voice raising goose bumps on her skin.

"Toombs disabled the tracker on my ship. We can't find out where he is," she stammered, trying to no avail to pull her forearms from his grip. He only tightened it, and now there was no question whether or not she'd have bruises.

"I know that. Knew that a week ago," he said. "I'll ask you again. What the fuck are you doing?" She sighed, shaking her head. "You know, I got to thinking…" he trailed off, pulling her from the chair and twisting her around and into a chair in the main cabin of the ship. "You said you didn't know how to pilot, right?" She swallowed thickly. "When I asked you a few hours ago?" She gave him a quick nod. His cheek twitched, and she didn't take that as a good sign. "See, you can't lie to me, Kat." His voice had dropped to a deep purr, yet another change that couldn't be a good sign. She was frozen under his gaze, only realizing that he'd gotten her right where he wanted her when she felt the cuffs go around her wrists again, twined around a bar at the back of the chair he'd wiggled her into. "I know that you can pilot." Her eyebrow rose slowly, and she stared up at him angrily. "You have your own ship, with a shit ton of modifications I'm guessing you made, and you expected me to believe you can't fly? Christ, Kat." His lips now hovered just a breath away from hers.

"I can't just pick up any ship and know how to fly it, Riddick," she snapped, turning her face away from his. Her brows furled as he grasped her chin, a little too hard, and turned her back to him. "You know how long it took me to learn how to fly that thing?"

"Aww," he crooned, bending to kiss along her neck, and her jaw clenched as she stared up at the ceiling. "You really expect me to believe that?"

"Fuck you," she spat weakly, hissing as he bit down on her shoulder hard enough to draw blood.

"You already have," he whispered, locking eyes with her as he backed up toward the doorway, not turning away from her until he was hidden in the shadows. She sighed, shaking her head.

---

Toombs stared at the blinking yellow light, eyeing the monitor suspiciously as though it were lying to him or pulling him into a trap. In all actuality, it could very well be a trap. It hadn't moved in two days now, and Toombs had spent the day and a half since he'd arrived hanging out in orbit, unsure of what to do. On one hand, judging from what he knew about his ship, Riddick could have stopped for repairs, and those would definitely take a few days once started. On the other hand, Riddick could have found Kat's remote and planted it to get him alone and vulnerable. He sighed, tearing his gaze away from the monitor only long enough to glance at the comm handset and sigh. Finally, he snatched it up and patched in to the control tower.

---

Kat sighed, testing the restraints again. Riddick had been gone for hours, and she'd had nothing to do but try to wriggle free and listen to the cruisers and skiffs landing and taking off every so often. A sudden thud in the belly of the ship drew her attention, and she stared at the doorway, her breathing slow and shallow to leave the room nearly silent, save the noises coming from down below. Boots thumped up the ladder, and a shadow stood in the doorway. Her eyebrow rose as Riddick stepped out of the shadows, holding brown paper bag in his hand.

"What's that?" she asked after a moment.

"Entertainment," came his gruff reply.

"Yours or mine?" He only shrugged, dropping the bag on the chair next to her. She watched in shock as he tied her feet down as well, not even bothering to try to fight him. "You gonna tell me what's in the bag?"

"You said you were bored," he said quietly, pulling the sleeve of her sweater up to bare her forearm. Her eyes widened as he pulled a needle and two pens out of the bag, along with a box of rubber bands, rubbing alcohol, a roll of medical tape and several boxes of gauze pads.

"Riddick?" she asked quietly. He only glanced up at her face quickly, leaving to retreat into the small bathroom. When he returned a few moments later with a disposable razor and a cup of water, she fought against the restraints as hard as she could, knowing they would cut into her wrists and scrape her up but too terrified and desperate to care.

"You done?" he asked after a moment, smirking as she stopped thrashing to stare up at him in horror. "It's not like you've never had it done before," he said, slowly sitting next to her and running the backs of his fingers down the outside of her thigh over one of her tattoos hidden under her cargos.

"It's different," she said, yanking her arm from his hand. "Those were voluntary." He reached for her arm again, and once he had a firm grasp on her, he pulled the cap off a syringe with his teeth, spitting it across the room. Her eyes narrowed as she tried to read the label, but it was moving too much. "What's that?" she demanded, trying again to pull her arm away.

"You keep fighting me and it's gonna hurt a lot worse," he cautioned. She scrunched her face up as he buried the needle in her arm, the liquid, whatever it was, stinging as he shot it into her. She writhed for a while as it burned up her arm, finally unable to make herself move, her eyelids drooping. "Now, it's not gonna knock you out, and it's not gonna kill the pain."

"It's a fucking sedative," she drawled, swallowing thickly. "You shot me up with a fucking tranquilizer." His chuckle sounded distorted to her, and she tried with all her strength to turn her head toward him. He planted a kiss on her forehead, and she couldn't do anything but watch as he shaved the top of her forearm and put together a makeshift tattoo machine.

---

Sometime in the middle of the process, she'd fallen asleep, and now as she drifted somewhere between reality and unconsciousness, she was dimly aware of the throbbing itch in her arm, the only thing telling her it really happened. She groaned, desperately trying to figure out which direction was up, since she hadn't yet been able to pry her eyes open. Finally, she got them apart just enough to make out blurry figures in the tiny strip of vision she had, slowly pulling her eyelids further and further apart. He'd left again, evidently, as the ship was dark and quiet. _Then again,_ she thought, just because it was quiet and dark didn't mean he'd left. She rolled onto her back, somehow through the course of her nap twisting her restraints to let her lie on her side. Her eyes darted around as the fog cleared, and her ears strained to pick up the slightest sound.

"Riddick?" she called quietly, not hearing anything. She repeated his name louder, finally yelling it at the top of her lungs and getting nothing in return. She heaved a sigh, letting her head fall back to the chair, staring at the ceiling again for a while before struggling to get the tape holding the gauze pad to her arm between her teeth and rip it away. It took her a while to get it unstuck from her lip, and she finally dropped it to the floor, twisting her arm around to get a look at what he'd done to her while he had her drugged. It was still a little oozy and bloody, but she made out two small Rs linked together with a chain. "Shit," she muttered, dropping her head again.

---

Toombs waited until dusk before leaving Kat's ship, sneaking between all the other cruisers. He paused behind a tree and checked the mobile GPS unit he'd brought along after synchronizing it with Kat's computers. The yellow light still blinked steadily, and he sighed, glancing around the tarmac before sliding to a crouch as boots crunched in the sand. His eyes narrowed as Riddick looked around, pausing before disappearing into the hangar. He decided it would probably be best if he waited until Riddick left again, assuming he didn't notice he was being watched and try to leave, and just remained behind the tree, straining to hear something, anything that was going on inside that hangar.

---

Kat wriggled around, trying once more to loosen the ropes holding her ankles. Just as she thought she might be able to get loose, the hydraulics of the hatch groaned, and she froze, tilting her head to the side to hear better. Riddick appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he clicked his tongue at her.

"Couldn't wait until it started healing to find out what it was, huh?" he drawled, a sly smirk on his face.

"You're one sick fuck, you know that?" she spat, glowering up at him.

"At least I made it small enough for you to cover it up if you ever get yourself out of this mess," he said with a shrug, pushing away from the doorframe and walking toward her. She shifted, trying to re-establish blood flow to her toes, and a plastic clink on the floor caught his attention. Her stomach lurched as his eyes went to the object that skittered across the floor. "And what's this?" he asked quietly. Her jaw worked, but she couldn't think of anything to say as he stooped, holding up her precious remote as he righted himself.

"Um…" she finally managed. His eyebrow rose slowly before he looked down at the object he turned over and over in his hands.

"A remote control to what?" he demanded calmly, though she knew he had to be upset by now. No, not upset, pissed off. "Probably got GPS in it, right?" His eyes darted up to hers, watching her swallow thickly. He eyed her for a moment before chucking it against the wall. She cringed as it shattered, a red chip blinking regularly bouncing off the wall and landing at his feet. He bent to pick it up and flicked it a couple times. Her mouth fell open, stomach sinking as he easily snapped it in half and tossed it at her.

---

Toombs glanced down at his mobile unit as it beeped twice, and swore under his breath. The light had stopped blinking, meaning either her batteries died or he found out and destroyed the chip. He glanced around quickly, deciding against his better judgment and stealing toward the hangar. Luckily for him, there was a loose board in the wall, and he pried it open further, slipping in silently. He stared at the ship for a moment, watching for any movement in the cockpit before reaching out toward an access panel on the side of the ship.

---

Riddick's head jerked to the side as the ship started beeping loudly, and he swore over the annoying sound, launching himself into the pilot's chair to run diagnostics. She sighed in relief as the beeping stopped, and turned her head toward her captor.

"What is it?"

"The oxygen tanks are out," he said quietly.

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning I need to refill them," he answered in a growl. "Fuck. That'll take a good two or three hours." Her whole body tensed as she listened to him click at the keyboard, and she jumped as he rammed the keyboard back into its shelf with a roar, standing and thundering toward her, stopping at her feet and pointing a finger at her. "Don't you move a fucking muscle or I'll kill you," he threatened. She nodded quickly, and he took a few more steps toward the door before turning back to her. "Slowly." She let out a quick tantrum as he disappeared down the hallway, and settled back down.

---

Toombs peeked through a crack in the boards making up the old hangar, crouching a few planks away from his little sneak-in hole to watch. Riddick ripped open the panel and swore, quickly glancing around the hangar and immediately going to the handle Toombs had removed, leaving the valve open to spew the tanks' contents. It wasn't much time, but he hoped it would be enough. Riddick threw the handle across the hangar, and it bounced off a few things before landing with a dull ping in the dirt. He stomped up the ramp and was gone for a few moments before Toombs heard his footsteps return. He pressed against the side of the building, hiding between two bushes as Riddick headed toward the main store on the port campus. Luckily, Toombs had thought to check the store's logs before sabotaging the ship and known Riddick would have to go at least to another store off the port to get the valve handle replaced, meaning more time for him to find Kat. Once Riddick had entered the store, Toombs slipped back into the hangar, swearing at the realization that Riddick had remembered to close the hatch. He glanced around, finally digging through his pockets for his utility knife. His hands shook as he slid under the ship, making it harder to loosen the screws of the main access panel at the belly of the ship. Only six screws, but the trembles worked against him. He finally got it open and pulled it loose, sliding it next to him under the ship before hoisting himself up.

"Kat?" he called quietly, hearing nothing. "Fuck." He glanced around, his eyes finally falling on a ladder, and he darted toward it, moving quickly up into the main cabin. "Oh, shit," he sighed, this boots pounding as he went to her side. "Kat?" He shook her, but she didn't respond. His eyes focused on a small syringe tossed to the side, and he leaned over her to pick it up. Her body was still warm, chest rising and falling slowly, and the veins in her neck pulsed. She was alive, but out. He turned the syringe over in his fingers and shook his head. Tranquilizer. _Son of a bitch._ With his handy utility knife, he cut the ropes holding her feet to the chair and moved up to her arms, stopping in his tracks. "Damn." He reached out slowly, running his fingers over the cuffs. Time was running out and he knew it. She stirred, groaning in her sleep, and she shifted against him. "Hang on, doll," he whispered, crouching next to her chair to see what Riddick had tied her to. He held the metal bar of the back of the chair in his hand as he looked around for another option, quickly deciding there wasn't one. Luckily for him, his utility knife had a small hacksaw. He just hoped he could get it done quickly enough. He was about halfway through when the cuffs jerked in his hands, and he launched off the floor to look at her. She blinked a few times, mumbling something incoherent, and he took a precious moment to press his lips to hers and smooth her wet hair from her forehead. "Just hold still for me baby," he whispered quickly and harshly. "I'm almost done. Just stay still." She whimpered, but held still. Finally, he got the damn thing cut and worked the chain loose, hoisting her over his shoulder, an arm wrapped around the bend of her knees to hold her steady. Once he worked them both down the ladder, he glanced at the access panel still open and the hatch, still closed. He debated for a while, but the sound of approaching footsteps decided for him. With a grunt, he lowered her through the access panel and slid down next to her, quickly replacing the cover and leaving the screws loose. One more thing for Riddick to need to fix before taking off.

He gathered Kat into his arms, clamping one hand over her mouth and holding her wrists together with the other, the chain held a few inches off the ground in case she decided she wanted to move. Her eyes opened suddenly, and she struggled for a moment, the chains hitting the ground just as he shushed her, and just as the door to the hangar scraped open, covering the noise. Riddick's boots appeared next to the ship, within reach of the two hiding under the ship, and they both listened as he went to work on the oxygen tank handle. A few moments later, he grunted, the ship shuddering as the hatch lowered. Kat closed her eyes and concentrated on the wild thumps of the heart beating against her back and the footsteps thudding above her. Toombs closed his eyes, swallowing thickly as Riddick's steps stopped directly above them. His lips moved as he swore silently, the scrape of a metal tool drawer opening and the footsteps following the path back out to the hangar. Fifteen minutes later, they heard the hiss of the tanks refilling slowly and the satisfied grunt Riddick huffed, his boots lingering a moment before returning to the ship, the hydraulics groaning again. Toombs waited, his thighs squeezing into Kat's sides, until the hiss and click signaled a secure lock. He dumped her to his side and slid out from under the ship, quickly glancing up to the cockpit before reaching under and grasping her shirt, dragging her out from under the ship.

"I'm still not completely awake," she mumbled quietly, rubbing her legs.

"Can you stand?" She shrugged, glancing up at the ship. "Try." He caught her just as she started to fall, and flipped her over his shoulder again, pounding toward the hangar door. Just as he got to the tail of the ship, an arm darted out, catching him in the throat. Kat saw the ground quickly approaching and braced for impact, finding herself tangled in Toombs' limbs.

"Now, you didn't _really_ fall for the whole 'hatch closed, he must be inside,' ploy, did you?" Riddick snarled, stepping out from behind the ship.


	12. Chapter 12

Chapter 12

Toombs groaned, rolling over as both he and Kat tried to detangle themselves from each other. Riddick's boots moved silently across the floor, and he leaned nonchalantly against the ship.

"How you feelin', sweetheart?" he asked, a smirk sliding into place as he nodded at Kat. "That tranq wearing off yet, or are your limbs still not cooperating yet?" She glared up at him, trying to rub her head where she'd hit it on the concrete floor when Toombs fell backwards. "How's the arm?" Toombs' growl alerted Riddick to his attack, and he quickly moved out of the way, Toombs barely skidding to a stop before running face first into the side of the ship. "Oh, don't stoop to playing the jealous boyfriend, Toombs," Riddick continued, grinning maniacally, "you don't really fit the profile for that." Toombs' chest heaved as he tried to get his bearings about him, and as soon as Riddick glanced at Kat, still trying to pick herself up off the ground, he planted a foot on the hull, launching toward Riddick. His target saw the attack at the last possible second, blocking the flying punch, but still toppling backwards. They rolled around in the dirt for a while, a mass of flailing limbs connecting and blocking blows. Kat gritted her teeth, dragging herself toward the utility knife that had dropped from Toombs' pocket during their tumble. Pushing back the pain, she forced her fingers to pry a blade open, shaking as she pulled until she heard it click, and then had to fight to get the unwilling digits to close around the handle.

"Come on," she whispered, glancing up at the two fighting men. "Dammit, work with me." Her whole body shook with the effort of just holding the damn thing, and she watched the fight intently, waiting for a chance. Riddick got the upper hand and rolled Toombs onto his back, straddling his hips and holding his shins down with the tops of his boots. Kat struggled into a position sitting on her knees and drew back, growling with all the breath she had as she hurled the knife at Riddick's back. Riddick only grunted as the base of the handle struck his back, falling harmlessly to the side. He ignored it, instead focusing on tightening his grip around Toombs' throat, leaning all his weight on his hands. Toombs struggled under Riddick, his vision blurring more and more the deeper the shade of purple coloring his face became, and his hands clawed at Riddick's arms. Kat struggled just to breathe, watching helplessly as her remaining energy drained. Toombs grunted, jerking a few times before he stilled, and Kat's mouth fell open, her arms giving out sending her to her side, her chest heaving. "Toombs?" she whispered, the darkness closing in. Spots swam before her eyes as Riddick stood slowly, her tunnel vision narrowing and finally closing completely as he stumbled toward her.

---

Kat woke slowly, unable to open her eyes. The room around her hummed, meaning she had to be on someone's ship, and her brows furrowed. As she tried to move, she let out a quiet whimper, finally flopping onto her side. She stayed there for a moment, just listening and hearing nothing but the engines. Finally, she got her eyelids apart and glanced around. With shaky arms, she pushed herself up to sit and swung her legs over the side of the bed, looking around the room slowly. She slid off the bed, gasping as her feet touched the cold metal floor. She wrapped her arms around herself, absently rubbing her arms, and looked down, running her fingers over the gauze taped over where Riddick had placed his mark. Curiosity got the better of her, and she ripped it away with a hiss, her face falling at the tattoo almost completely healed, and still unchanged.

"Fuck," she whispered, shaking her head. She ran her fingers through her hair, shuffling toward the door. It seemed too heavy, but she still got it open after a while, looking around the hallway before deciding to go to the left, padding slowly toward a doorway with a light shining through to the corridor. She gripped the doorframe with both hands and peeked in, sighing as she looked in on another patient. _Okay, so this is a passenger ship and I'm not the only one in the med wing,_ she thought, shaking her head. Footsteps behind her drew her attention, and she snapped her head around.

"Ms. Marshall?" someone called. Her eyes focused on a man approaching her, his hands outstretched as though he expected her to fall.

"What happened to me?" she croaked.

"You were given a drug," he said, clearing his throat. "We had to flush it out of your system. You shouldn't be up. You're still weak."

"I'm fine," she insisted, waving him off as she shook her head.

"Please, Ms. Marshall. Just…" he trailed off with a sigh, gently placing a hand on her shoulder. "Just please come with us and get back into bed. You need to rest."

"Where am I?" she asked weakly, leaning more heavily against the wall. "Who brought me here?"

"It's okay," another voice called from down the hallway behind the orderlies. She glanced beyond the two men trying to get her back to her room, and her knees buckled. Her whole body shook as the orderlies were pushed aside, hands suddenly on her face, trying to clear her hair away. "It's okay, babe," he whispered, pressing his lips to her forehead. "We need to get you back to bed."

"No," she said, shaking her head slowly. "I don't want to go back there." He sighed, and she felt him shift to look up at the two staff members.

"Can I take her back to my room? Look after her there?"

"Uh… well…" one of them started.

"You can come check on her whenever you want. She just doesn't want to be left down here, okay?" He didn't wait for a response, instead drawing Kat into his arms and cradling her against his chest. She let out a quiet sniffle, pressing her nose into his shirt as he walked down the hallway. It seemed like an eternity before he kicked a door open, then closed behind him, and lowered her onto a soft mattress, pulling the covers up over her.

"What happened?" she asked quietly, wincing as she shifted under the sheets. The bed gave as he sat next to her, his back to her.

"I started to black out, so I started faking. I'm sure he knew I was still alive, but I guess he wanted to get you back onto the ship before he finished me off," Toombs sighed. "He's not gonna hurt you anymore," he added, glancing over his shoulder at her, and she reached out, tugging weakly at his arm. A small smile touched his lips, and he settled next to her on his side, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I tried," she whispered, shaking her head. "I got a hold of your knife, but I could barely hold onto it."

"I know, darlin'," he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "You didn't get enough spin on it. But it landed in my reach, and that's all we needed." She nodded, swallowing slowly. "You're safe now," he whispered, pulling her tightly against him.

"I thought you were dead," she mumbled into his chest, receiving a quick squeeze.

"I'm right here."

"He marked me," she continued.

"We'll take care of it once you're well enough to," he promised, and she nodded, finally giving into sleep.


End file.
